Love Is A Many Splendored Thing
by Obsideor
Summary: A way back is finally opened, but all isn't right in the parallel world. Who is responsible for his sudden return? And what's the matter with Rose? 10Martha time period. Reunion fic, with a nasty twist. RECAP OF CH 1-43 NOW UP: SORRY FOR 2 YEAR DELAY.
1. Interlude 1

I cannot even express my joy at finally writing a dr. who fanfic!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!! Ok done. Anyway I do hope you all enjoy it, providing someone actually reads it….please do? It's set right after series two, with Martha as the companion. I live in the states (sadly) and therefore have not seen any episodes of series three except the Shakespeare one on Youtube, so I don't know where they've been in the TARDIS. Consequently, I will make stuff up. Apologies in advance for all you terribly lucky Brits who know what's going on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, Harriet Jones would not have blown up that spaceship, Rose would still be on the show, and I would be playing her part.

Disclaimer: I also do not own the lyric I inserted in this chappy that is from Moulin Rouge!, El Tango De Roxanne, my favorite song.

Now read, my child, READ!!!!

O by the way, not all of the story is like this. This kind of thing is explained later, before the next one (Interlude 2). So don't get discouraged by the poemy feel, it IS a story. That come next chappy.

Okey-day, now I really WILL shut up…

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So that's it, then.

Alone.

Again.

I suppose I'm used to it by now.

But not quite.

Not this time.

Because it's her.

This time is different.

This sensation is new.

It hurts.

Why does my heart cry?

Because this time.

I let it go to far.

I should have seen this coming,

I should have stopped it.

But I didn't.

And now we both are screaming.

This time.

I let my emotions run away.

And now.

I can't seem to stop crying.


	2. Arrival

"Martha, press that button over there!"

"What, this one?" asked a frantic Martha.

"No, no, the other one! That one!"

"Here?"

"Left, left a bit!"

"The blue one!"

"Yes, that one!" He sighed and swept back his spiky hair with a long-fingered hand. "Jesus, for a moment there I thought we were dead! Nice work, my faithful companion!" he added sarcastically. "Oh, that's rude, isn't it?"

"Umm…yeah?" sighed Martha exasperatedly, placed a hand on one hip.

"Hmm…got to stamp that habit…Anyway!" He grinned cheekily. "Let's see where we've landed, shall we?"

"I'm game," replied Martha. "But knowing you, we could be anywhere. You lose control of the TARDIS so often I wonder if you even have a license for the thing."

"Well, you don't _really_, need one, I mean, not_ technically_ speaking…"

"Yeah, but it sure would help sometimes," Martha criticized, raising a dark eyebrow.

"Don't you start…"

"I'm just saying-!" She raised her hands in defense.

"I said don't start!" the Doctor exclaimed.

She sighed and started toward the door. "Alright, alright already!" She placed a brown hand on the fake window and smiled. "So aren't we going to take a look?"

His eyes darkened suddenly and he groaned. "Oh, never mind. You go ahead. I'll just, uh, tidy up the TARDIS."

"When did you get all randomly manic depressive on me, huh? It's been going on for weeks, you know. What, you just not in the mood for exploration today?" She stuck out her lower lip in a pout at her last sentence.

"Nah, it's not that. It's just…" He turned away from her and rumpled the back of his already unkempt hair. "It's just…" he repeated.

Martha let her hand slide from the door and her smile from her face. "It's Rose, isn't it?"

The Doctor whirled around with an agonized, almost horrified expression etched into his hard features. "How did you…how can…when did I…"

"I heard you. In your sleep, I mean. You were muttering something awful…something about a…a Rose, um, Tyler, I think you said. You were…um…screaming, I think. Screaming her name like…like you were dying. Like you were in…well…mortal pain." She shrugged and managed a shaky laugh. "Startled me right ou'ta bed."

"I was…screaming, did you say?" His grief-scarred eyes sought hers, searching for some sort of denial.

Martha twisted her hands together and looked around for something to stare at other than his eyes. "Um, yeah. Screaming for this Rose person. In between the screams, um, you would mutter something like, 'It's my fault she's gone….all my fault…where is she? Where?'" She found a good section of the TARDIS console and fixed her gaze upon that. "And, um, one time it was, 'Don't let me see her…the universe will burn…even Hell will be drowned in flame…' On and on until morning." A small smile crept onto her face. "You're very poetic in your sleep, Doctor."

He gave her a strange look and asked in a monotone, "Was I doing anything else?"

She gave him a fleeting, embarrassed glance and went back to stare avidly at the console. "Um…well…"

"Tell me."

She wrung her sweating hands together. "You were crying. Sobbing, even. I got a handkerchief and wiped your face for you. I, I didn't want you to know, you know. I thought you might not, well, like it."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you don't really show that kind of emotion often, and I thought…"

"That I didn't want to?"

"Well, yeah."

He heaved a sigh and smushed his face in with one hand. "If I had a diary I'd write in it with a black quill…right now…" he muttered.

"Doctor?" asked Martha tentatively.

His response was a sorrowful gaze.

"Um, were you and her…you know…like, together?"

"Yes. Yes, we were. We never gave it a name, but it was _there_. You could feel it in the air between us, like a drug. We kept breathing it in until we were so far gone…too far to survive when it vanished." His cornered shoulders slumped, and he collapsed onto the floor. "I never had the chance…to say it…the words were poison in my throat…God… what she must think of me now…" he spat through gritted teeth, head in his hands.

She looked at the fallen god and felt tears for him stinging her eyes. He was so vulnerable, so dejected. and it frightened her to see him like this. "Doctor?" she whispered, soft as a cloud. "What happened?"

His head snapped up, eyes burning with fury. "Does it matter? It's over now. We'll never be able to go back to what we were, not now. Forget it ever happened." He grabbed hold of a section of the ship and hoisted himself up. Martha gasped at the seemingly enormous effort it took him. "Now, my dear, why don't you take a peek at the scenery. What's it like?" A familiar beaming face replaced the hopeless one that had been there a second before.

Martha opened the door and stuck her head outside. "It…it's Earth!" she shouted in glee. "We're home again! I guess you're not such a bad driver after all!" She laughed and turned to face him, her ecstasy warming his cold heart(s). "But wait…"

"What?"

Confused, she pulled her head back in and gave him a peculiar look. "What's with all the zeppelins?"

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ooooohhhh done with chappy one!!!! HOORAY!!!!!! Are you proud of me??? please review and keep reading!!!! I will update someday!!! I promise!!! On my computer!!!


	3. Interlude 2

Ok, for my readers out there, this is a poetic interlude that will be put in between every chappy. This is NOT chapter two, which would be weird. This is a first-person…um…thingy that I will add before the next chapter. IS THAT CLEAR? good…. please keep reading!!! I'll love you forever!!!

Diclaimer: I don't own anything other than the plot. Everything else , like songs, characters, and settings is not my property (wahhhhhhh).

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It's impossible.

It's not supposed to work like this.

She's so close.

So close to me.

I can feel her here.

But I can't see her.

Not now.

Not after what I did.

This time.

I learned a lesson.

And.

I must be wiser.

In my decisions.

Now.

I'll let myself take all the pain.

Save her.

Not me.

I'm tired of surviving.

Living on.

For what?

Two broken hearts?

No.

This time.

I will fly away from here.

Like I should have.

That day.

When she came running to my door.


	4. An Old Friend

Here is the third chappy!!! Drum roll, please! -cricket chirp- What? What is this?? No appreciation for my hard work??? I will not accept this, thank you. Nope. Not happening.

_Any_ways I do hope you enjoy this little scene o' mine. I am particularly proud of it, and I hope you are, too. For me, I mean. Okay, I shall shut up now.

Disclaimer: I wish with all my heart that I owned Doctor Who. But, sadly, life is cruel and I do not.

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"Doctor? Doctor, can you hear me?"

The panicky teenager knelt beside an unresponsive Doctor.

"Doctor? Doctor, snap out of it! C'mon, this isn't funny. Come _on_!" She gave his face a few quick slaps, but his body remained stiff and corpselike.

"What's happened to him?" asked a voice behind her. A bolt of fear ran down her spine, and she turned to get a look at the voice's owner.

A young black man, probably no more than twenty-three, stood just inside the TARDIS. His eyebrows were creased to tightly that there seemed to be no space between them. A black jacket, shirt, and trousers hugged his lean, but muscular build. All together, he looked rather threatening.

"What's happened to him?" the stranger repeated, starting toward them.

"Wha-hey, you keep away from him! Who do think you are, anyway, barging in here like that? What do you want?" She raised her arms instinctively in front of the Doctor.

"I'm Mickey," he said shortly, kneeling beside the other man. "I'm a…friend of the Doctor's."

"You-you know him?" asked Martha, aghast.

"Yeah, of course I do. We, um, were…rivals. Of a sort, I suppose. We, um, we traveled together, for a bit."

Martha crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "If you know him _so_ well, what's his name?"

"What?"

"You heard. What is it?"

"He hasn't got one. Just 'the Doctor.'"

"Age?"

"Um…no one knows, really. Old, though."

"What's his weapon?"

"Sonic screwdriver. Not much of a weapon, really, just a kind of tool…" He trailed off, pondering the idea of whether it actually could harm someone or not.

"Hmm…what's this thing?" Martha gestured toward the ceiling.

"The TARDIS. It's a time machine."

"And?"

"And…uh…space, I suppose."

She exhaled in relief and put a hand to her forehead. "You passed. Sorry, but I had to make sure you weren't gonna kill him or something. You've got my trust."

He sighed as well and relaxed his stiff shoulders and brow. Martha noticed that it made him a little less intimidating. "Great. Just one question: who're you?"

She flushed at her hastiness and gave a small laugh. "Martha, Martha Jones. I travel around with the Doctor, like you did, I suppose."

"I doubt that," he muttered, a trace of anger flickering across his face. "Anyway, now that that's settled, what's wrong with him?" The softened features hardened once more, but not as severely as the previous time.

"I dunno, really. I just asked him why there were zeppelins out there, and he just…keeled over. He won't move; he's as stiff as a body. I can't get him to blink, even." She pointed to his blank, wide-open eyes. "All I can get is this…eerie sort of staring thing."

The wrinkle in Mickey's brow deepened as he scrutinized him. "You're sure he's not just…um…what's the word…regenerating! That's it, regenerating. You're sure he's not just doing that?"

"Um…I don't think so…what's regenerating?"

"Never mind. Doesn't matter. You'd know if it were," he told her, reminiscing on the agony he had gone through the last time that had occurred. He put a hand on either side of the Doctor's chest to feel his heartbeats. Both were fluttering like a hyperactive butterfly. "You sure that's all you did? Just said something about zeppelins?"

Angry, she put on an annoyed expression and cried, "Hey, this isn't _my_ fault! Don't you go blaming me! All I said was, "What's with all the zeppelins?" and then he just fell! Hey, he's all pale, look!" she observed suddenly, poking a rigid cheek. "The color's just gone."

"Did he say anything before he fell? Anything at all."

Martha squinted and thought for a minute. "Um…his lips moved, but I couldn't hear him, I was over there…oh! It kind of sounded like…'Rats improbable'. Or something." she added, realizing the idiocy of her interpretation.

"I think it might've been, 'That's impossible'."

A hand flew to her forehead and smacked it. "Oh, duh! That was just plain bloody stupid!" She went back to looking concernedly at the Doctor. "God, I should be able to figure this out! I'm a medical student, aren't I? Fat lotta good it's done me…" She slowly shook her head in shame.

"Martha…I think he's in shock."

"…shock? From what?"

"From…well…making it back, I suppose."

She replied with a bewildered stare.

"Didn't he tell you?"

"About…?"

"Rose, of course. Did he tell you about her?" Something stirred behind his eyes as he said her name, but Martha didn't catch it.

"Actually, we were just getting to that when he lost consciousness," she told him cheerfully. "Or went into shock, or whatever."

"Well…uh…to make a long story short, him and Rose were…separated. Across parallel universes. We're in the parallel one now You might've figured that out when you saw the zeppelins…or, I dunno, maybe you didn't. But anyway, they couldn't see each other because they were in different universes. But where we are now, this universe, this is where she is, you see. So that probably astounded him into…this." He made a motion toward the stiffened Time Lord.

"But…I thought the TARDIS could go anywhere. Why couldn't-"

"It can't jump _between_ dimensions; that rips a big bleedin' hole in time." At her skeptical smirk, he added, "Mind you, I know. I saw it, last time it happened. That's when they got separated, see."

"Okay…sob stories: over. Prioritize a bit, shall we? What are we gonna do about this?"

"We can't take him to a hospital, they'll freeze-dry him…or a doctor's office, same goes for that, too…I guess…we'll just have to take him back to my place."

"And what is 'your place'?"

Mickey blushed slightly (which was hardly noticeable on his chocolate-coloured face). "Um…it…it has a loo, okay? That's it, that's all that _really_ matters, right?" A hopeful, embarrassed plea was evident in his almost-black eyes.

Martha grimaced and rolled her eyes. "Alright. But if you're out of paper, I'm done."

"Deal," he said, smiling warmly.


	5. Interlude 3

So...tranquil.

So quiet.

Peace.

Yes.

Here is the peace I've been craving.

I can float.

And breathe pure air.

And no thoughts will ever.

Cross my mind.

Again.

This is what I have never had.

I can sleep dreamlessly.

No nightly hauntings of-NO.

I mustn't think it.

Not now.

Now that I am here.

That thought is what.

Got me here.

And if let it.

Invade my mind.

Again.

I might go back.

To that Hell.

But here, here.

I can drift away.

And sink into the black pool.

And no one will ever touch my heart.

Again.

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Question: are these getting a bit angsty to you? Tell me, please. I want to know.


	6. Tea and Tidiness

Diclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. End of story, goodbye, the end.

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"It's _disgusting_! It's like a sixth grade science project volcano gone wrong! It's…it's absolutely _appalling_! It's-"

"All right, all right already. I know I need some tidying up, but-"

"_Some tidying up_? No, sir, what you need is an _acid bath_. The smoke would colour the walls nicely…better than this weird hospital green you have now…"

"Okay, okay! I get it!"

Martha laughed teasingly and gave Mickey a flirtatious smile. "Don't worry, I'm only poking fun. No time for that, now, is there? Now we've got him to attend to." She turned to see the Doctor, still in wooden board mode, lying strangely on the battered sofa. It had been quite a task to carry him from the TARDIS, down two blocks, and up the stairs of a dingy apartment building. Both Martha and Mickey's limbs were sore to the point of tears, and when they had first arrived at the room, Mickey had promptly headed to the bathroom cabinet for some ibuprofen.

"I guess all we can do is wait," sighed Mickey. "Last time this happened the world almost plunged into an epoch ruled by the Sycorax. If this is a repeat of that, I just hope he wakes up soon."

Martha looked at him blankly. "…okaaaaay. Let's hope…that doesn't happen, what ever _that_ is. You're right," she added, seating herself on the dilapidated coffee table in front of the sofa. "We'll just have to wait. Until he snaps out of it, I can't do anything."

"Yeah." He plopped down onto the table beside her and propped his chin up with his hands.

Minutes passed, maybe hours, but Martha couldn't possibly tell the difference. She drifted in and out of sleepland, ignoring the oddity of being in two different places at once. All she could feel was worry. Outside, she might have been calm and cool, but inside she was beside herself. The Doctor was never weak, never succumbed to human faults. When did he start becoming so…so vulnerable? Was it the same time he had begun the whole sometimes-angst-sometimes-not bit? She couldn't remember. She should remember…

"Martha!"

Her return to reality was greeted by an abrupt burst of light and colour, temporarily blinding her. She blinked once…twice…three times before normal eyesight was blissfully restored. "Hmm…huh? Wh-what? What happened? Is he up?" The two latter statements came from a wide-awake, anxious face.

The exhausted Mickey shook his head sadly. "Not yet," he told her excitedly. "But I've just remembered! That time, when the Sycorax were here, Jackie accidentally woke him up! With a thermos of tea!" He bolted for the kitchen and hastily put a kettle on.

"A thermos…of tea?" she repeated skeptically. "And who is this 'Jackie'? Not another girlfriend, surely?"

"No, no," answered Mickey, fumbling through a kitchen cupboard for a few teabags. "That's her mother, Rose's, I mean. She was…um…trying everything to get him up, and…" He grunted as a few instant ramen cups tumbled out of the cupboard. "…and I guess she gave him tea or something…aHA!" he cried triumphantly, thrusting a tattered box of Earl Grey into the air. "So that's what we'll do! Good ol' Jacks."

"Tea? No, seriously, just ordinary tea?"

"With milk and sugar, yeah."

"Oh boy."

After a few minutes, once the water had boiled sufficiently, he poured it into a thermos. "Ow!" he cried, sucking a burnt thumb. "That's hot! Get the milk and sugar out for me, will you? Milk's in the fridge, sugar's in…some cupboard, just take a look around, it's there."

A few minutes of digging through dusty cans and boxes later, the tea was ready. "Okay, so now what do we do? Do we just…tip it in?" Martha made a tilting motion with her hands. "What?"

Mickey looked abashed and scratched the back of his head absently. "Well…um…the only part of the story I know is that it was tea the did the job. I dunno how it worked, really."

Martha grabbed the container and headed to the sofa. "Well let's experiment, shall we?" Kneeling down on the dusty carpet, she opened the top of the thermos and clicked the knob to 'open'. The steam blew out immediately, and she positioned it so that the fumes were hitting his face directly.

"Come on, come on," chanted Mickey, who had joined her.

The Doctor didn't move a millimeter.

"…okay then. Tea, eh? Are you sure it wasn't, you know, like incense or something?"

"Hey!"

She giggled and put a hand up to stifle it. "Okay, okay, I'll quit. Sorry, it's just…too easy!" A burst of all-out laughter began in her chest, and she let it free with a massive snort. Tentatively, Mickey joined in with her hysterics, and soon the two were both rolling around on the floor in tears, clouds of dust fogging the whole room.

"What _is_ this?"

Martha snapped to attention. "D-doctor! Oh my God, you're awake! Oh, thank God!"

"Yes! I knew it would work!" shouted an ecstatic Mickey, wiping his wet-with-laughter-tears cheeks. "Oh, brilliant!"

"No need to halt the party just 'cause I've arrived," he said with a faux-concerned smile. "Carry one with…whatever you two were doing." He waved his hand dismissively and crossed his arms.

She exhaled with a laugh. "Never mind that, we were just…laughing." She glanced at Mickey for some help. "Just…"

"Laughing, yeah," he contributed unhelpfully.

A John Cleese accent inquired, "At what, pray tell?" A folded knee and a chin on fist accompanied this statement.

"Um..just…"

"Nothing really."

"Completely spontaneous."

"Yeah, what she said."

The newly awakened Doctor sighed and resumed his original position. "If you say so. Mickey, is this your place?" he asked, looking around in unexplainable amazement.

The addressee scratched the back of his head again and said, "Yeah, d'you like it?"

"It's…_ghastly_," the Doctor stated promptly. "Like a hotel maid's worst fear. Like _any_ maid's worst fear, for that matter. Like-"

"So I've heard," interrupted the maid's-worst-nightmare's owner shortly.

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Yay!!! did you like it??? (say yes) and preeeeeeeetty please with whipped cream, a cherry, sprinkles (rainbow and choco), nuts, hot fudge, caramel sauce, pineapple, strawberries, and TWO bananas REVIEW PLEASE!!!!! I don't care what you say, say 'meep' for all I care, but I neeeeed your reviews, people!!! it's what KEEPS me WRITING!!! you want more of this story, don't you? (say yes). OKAY, then, if that's the case then review!! they really do encourage me to write more!!! they aren't worthless!!! so feel free!! more than free, uh…(what's more than free?) oh never mind! just thank you readers and remember: 'if you want something new, please oh please oh please review'


	7. Interlude 4

Diclaimer: The tiny little lyric in here (again from El Tango De Roxanne), I did not write. Darn.

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No.

NO.

It's back.

The blinding pain.

The light.

The memories, eating away.

All of it.

I couldn't escape.

Not for long.

Oh, but I wish.

I could.

Now that I've tasted.

Freedom, weightlessness.

From these emotions, these passions.

It's filling up my head.

Making it ache so.

Feelings I can't fight.

Have occupied my thoughts.

In the shadows and the cobwebs.

In the smallest little niche.

Of the darkest corner of my heart.

Too far to reach.

To black to see.

Resistance is useless.

Against this.

What is a Dalek, a Cyberman

Against a girl you have loved?

What is metal to that?

These feelings.

They burn.

And they sear

And they twist.

But I wouldn't give them up.

For both universes.


	8. Mirth and Mistakes

I updated!!! I promised I would!!! And I did it on time, too! Aren't you proud of me? -Sniff- I'm so happy…

Disclaimer: I never owned Doctor Who, I do not own Doctor Who now, and I most certainly will never own Doctor Who anytime within the next century.

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"So, Mickey the Idiot, how have you been faring since I last saw you?"

Mickey just smiled benevolently and ignored the age-old insult. "Okay, I guess. Me an' Jake, we've been going around, investigating anything, you know, weird that just sort of turns up." At the Doctor's raised eyebrows, he added, "We haven't found anything important, I mean, yet. Lots of little things like businessmen cheating employees out of their fair share, policemen who are really gang members, but nothing _really_ serious."

"Well, _you_ wouldn't," murmured the Doctor, face straight as a priest.

"It's no use trying to make me feel like the tin dog again, Doctor," Mickey told him seriously. "I'm past that stage. The world…this world. All the things I've seen, you know, _done_. I'm not the tin dog anymore, not now I'm on my own. You can't hurt me with those types of words again. Sorry…"

"You know, you just ruined that speech with that spluttered apology at the end, there," the Doctor said, choking back a laugh.

"I'm serious, Doctor. It won't work."

"Idiot."

"Didn't you hear? I-"

"Idiot."

"Stop it!"

"Idiot!"

"Stop!"

"IDIOTIDIOTIDIOT!!!"

"SHUT UP!!!"

Both Martha and the Doctor exploded in peals of laughter, the Doctor actually tearing up in the process. He doubled over and clutched his sides, giggling to himself. "Oh, my brave little Mickey. I was wrong; you haven't changed a bit. A bit! And you thought…" Another wave hit him, and he stopped mid-sentence. "…you thought you'd matured! No, Mickey, you're still just the same, naive little boy who clung to whatever happened to be there, including women. A _bit_ more worldly, maybe, but not enough to be _totally_ immune from cruelty. Sorry…" he included, losing himself in hysterics once more.

Mickey sat, rigid, staring at the seemingly interesting wall opposite from him. He was blinking, a good sign considering recent events, but his fists were clenched in an intimidating fashion.

"Mick-"

He never finished. A spectacular uppercut soared from nowhere and caught the unprepared Doctor right underneath his jaw. His body crashed onto the coffee table fantastically; Martha screamed and leaped out of the way, staring, horrified, at the sight before her. "Wha…what was _that_ for?" she cried, starting to assist her fallen hero.

"No…it's fine," he grunted, pushing himself out of the wreckage and tuning over to meet his attackers livid face.

"I…am not…_naïve_," he spat, hands still balled up tightly. "You know who changed that? Care to hazard a guess, _Doctor_? You, of course. You and your stupid bloody _ignorance._ Did you ever even _bother_ to _consider_ what you did to me? Oh, I'm not talking about your bleedin' antics; shoving me back down every time I managed to stand back up. I mean how you showed up, out of _nowhere_, and stole my girlfriend! For a _year_! And then," he chuckled bitterly to himself, "you bring her _back_, like the world is all smiles. And then take her again! Over and over and over, Doctor. You ripped my heart in two every single time you whisked her away in that fancy contraption of yours."

The Doctor looked up at him with a pained expression. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I'm so sorry…"

Mickey laughed harshly. "'Sorry' doesn't even _begin_ to cover it. I had nothing, _nothing_, after you came along. You and her, skipping carelessly around the universe, while I sat at home, waiting patiently for the sound of the TARDIS to return, like a faithful _dog_. And for what? A hurried goodbye peck on the cheek. I lived my life for that sound, Doctor. And when you finally decide to show up, what to you predictably do? _Insult_ me! Like I'm still that scared, wide-eyed little kid who held onto her for dear life! You never took me seriously, Doctor, and I guess you're not planning to now, huh?"

Martha helped the Doctor to his feet. "I'm sorry, Mickey. You're…right. I guess…I guess I still have that old prejudice against you. I was always uncomfortable when we came back, you know…always afraid she'd choose you over me. And when she never did, I guess I just took that to mean I was…superior to you, or something. I kind of got a bit of a complex for a time, and I apologize. It's been hard on the both of us." He spoke his last sentence with moody, drifting eyes.

"Tell me about it," said Mickey, joining in with a wandering stare.

The Doctor was first to snap back to reality. "So, we still friends?" he asked, offering a hand to the other.

He hesitated for only a second, and then shook it roughly. "Yeah, I s'pose. Sorry, you know, about that." He nodded toward the Doctor's chin, which was in the process of forming an outstanding purple bruise.

"Don't worry; I deserved it."

"Yeah, you did." The two grinned cautiously.

"You know, the only reason I poked and prodded you so much was so that you _would_ hit me," thought the Doctor aloud. "I just wanted you to stand up for yourself, like you did that time with Jake. It took a bally long time, but…you did it."

"Yeah, guess I did, didn't I?" said Mickey, smiling proudly to himself.

The Doctor smiled a private, knowing smile to himself. "Good for you, Mickey the Idiot." He sank into the rotting sofa, sighing tiredly.

"Watch it," warned the other.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, it was broken by a sudden contribution of Martha's:

"Gay baby."

"_What???_" the two males exclaimed simultaneously.

Martha looked a bit abashed as she said, "You know, gay baby." At their unresponsive stare, she explained, "Like, a gay baby's born every time there's an awkward pause. So you say 'gay baby.' Come on, you know…"

"No, we don't."

"Alright then, never mind. Matter closed," she concluded slightly sheepishly.

"Okay…great," said the Doctor, giving her a peculiar look. "You learn something new everyday, I s'pose."

"Um…Doctor?" asked Mickey tentatively.

"What?"

"Um...I couldn't help but notice…um…you haven't…you haven't asked. About…about Rose, and I just…and…um…"

He answered in an unreadable tone. "What's there to ask?"

"I just…I just thought you might like…to see her. Talk to her. You know…I thought-"

"There's nothing to say. I'm not picking up where we left off. It would be too hard…for me…not to mention _her_…can you even imagine?"

Mickey suddenly began pacing back and forth the tiny room. "Well…you see…you don't have to worry about that…now." His expression went from hopeful to angry, almost hurt.

The Doctor rose and frowned concernedly. "Why is that?" he said quietly.

Mickey looked at his feet and sighed. "It's not…for me to say." He looked the Doctor and told him sadly, "I think you'd better go see Jackie."

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Oooooooo if that's not a cliffhanger then I don't know what is! Hehehehehe sorry, guys. I'm just slightly demented, that's all. Don't worry, I'll add more ASAP. :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D


	9. Interlude 5

Hello again! I do hope you actually get this far…but if you're reading this, then you have (yay!). Pleasepleaseplease stick with it and don't give up, as I've said a billion times before, and don't forget that reviews are always demand-I mean, ahem, _appreciated_. Yes. Well. Go on, read for goodness sakes. Don't listen to me ramble on, go!

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What?

What is this?

I don't know what to think.

Anymore.

That feeling.

The urge.

Go on go on go on.

Ask ask ask.

Do it do it do it.

That impulse to see her.

Why does it torment me?

I cannot.

I will not.

Stop worrying.

He's toying with me.

I'm imagining.

The alarm in his face.

She's fine.

But.

Then.

That's almost worse.

Isn't it?

I'll never know.

I can't.

Go back to the way.

Things used to be.

I give up.

I can't think anymore.

For now.

I'll just let the current push me.

Where it wills.


	10. Rose's Condition

Well now, I give you the conclusion to the cliffhanger. No flames, if you please, it took a while. I love you all:D I'll love you more if…well, I think you can guess what. By now. Hopefully. Have you even been reading the A/N's? Shame on you, if not! Go back and read them, I say! Go! JKJKJKJK just read…

I am proud of being a spaz…I am proud of being a spaz…I am proud of being a spaz…I am proud….

Disclaimer: What's the point? Obviously I don't own Doctor Who. Believe, me, you'd know if I did.

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"Oh my God…it…_can't_ be…"

"It is, Jackie. I'm sorry, but it is."

"But it _can't_ be…" she repeated, mouth hanging open. "You…you were left behind. In Torchwood…I _saw_ it…" She swayed slightly and quickly grabbed a section of the doorway for support.

The Doctor gave her a reassuring smile. "I fell back here. I don't know how…I wish I did, but I can't explain it. I just…got here," he finished unhelpfully.

"But it's got to be fate. You can't have ended up here for just no reason at all…it's got to be destined." Her face split into a tearful smile, a greeting from Jackie he had never gotten before. "You…it _has_ to be…"

He tried to read her expression, gather something from the eyes he was looking at. Trauma…he could sense that emanating from her. Sadness, pain…no, that couldn't be loss… "Jackie…what's happened?" He took her by the shoulders and fixed his gaze on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Oh…" Her shoulders began to quake, and she bent her head down in anguish. "Oh, Doctor…can you save her?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The four of them sat solemnly in one of the house's many parlors, waiting for Jackie to begin her tale. A slowly cooling cup of tea, brought by a servant, sat untouched in front of each person. Jackie's, however, was fully drained before she spoke; Mickey suspected there was more in her teacup than milk and sugar.

She finished, and set the cup back in its china saucer. "Oh, Doctor…it was awful. You should have seen her the first few weeks after you had said your…inadequate goodbye. She went to work, came home, and went to sleep. That's all. She spoke not a word to me or her father. It frightened us. We considered getting a therapist, but what on Earth could she have told them? And then…" The fragile, different Jackie crumpled in sobs again, pressing a hanky to her face.

"Then what?" asked the Doctor, compassion absent from his voice.

"And then…I started noticing the scars." The Doctor twitched noticeably, but remained silent. "All over. On her hands, on her arms, on her stomach, even. She said she kept falling in a rosebush near the shop she worked in, but…but I knew it wasn't true. She was so transparent; it was like she didn't care if I noticed or not. I found the safety pins inside her mattress, and took them, but she just got more. Not hard to get safety pins, you know…" she told them matter-of-factly.

"We know. Keep going," whispered Martha sympathetically.

"And so, I told her, "Rose, you've got to stop this," and she said, "No, mum, I won't," and I asked, "Why not?". And she said, "It's all I can feel anymore." So I told Pete, and he said to just wait it out. He said…he said that she'd get over you eventually.

"But…but he was wrong. She didn't. It just got worse and worse and worse until…until that day."

"And what happened that day, Jackie? Tell me."

"She went to the kitchen…and she got a cheese knife out, you know, the little one…"

The Doctor sucked in a breath and went rigid at her piercing words. "No…no, she couldn't have…" he breathed softly, realizing what was coming next.

"She did, Doctor…she did it. She slit her wrist, just like that. The cook found her about ten minutes after it had happened, but the blood was so already thick it had started to stain her own hair…" The anguished mother doubled over, crying quietly into her monogrammed handkerchief.

Martha's hand flew to her mouth, and she whispered, "Oh my God…". Mickey stared absently out of a large window, trying with all his might not to listen. He had heard it all before, after all. The desire to hear it again was nonexistent. The Doctor clenched his hands together and began to shake with the effort of keeping calm. "What…next?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, let her have a moment, for God's sake. Look at her," Martha chastised.

He turned his head slowly to look at her. She recoiled when her eyes met his; the immense pain and ferocity there was something she had never seen in anybody's face, and certainly not his. "Sorry…um…keep going, then…"

"We got her to the hospital just in time, the doctors said. A few more minutes and she would've…would've bled to death, they said. So we thought we were lucky."

"But you…weren't? Why?" encouraged Martha as soothingly as she could.

"It took her three days to wake up. Trauma, the doctors told us. But when she finally did…oh God…she…she…I'm so sorry, Doctor…"

"What? Jackie, tell me. What's happened to Rose? Tell me!" He stood and roughly grabbed her by the upper arms. "Tell me!" he growled brusquely.

"Let her be!" cried Martha indignantly, shoving his arms away from the dejected Jackie.

Something in his face settled back into place, and he sat back down, stiff and horrified once again. "I…I'm sorry, Jackie. Please…tell me what's happened to her."

Jackie sniffed and blew her nose loudly. "…how do I say it? Um...well, first thing after she woke up, she r-ripped the bandage off. From her wrist. Just tore it free from the cut, like a Band-Aid. She grabbed a pen from a nearby nurse and…and started slashing at the wound like…like a madman! She…she did it again and again, until a nurse was finally able to tranquilize her.

"And the next time she was conscious, she started flailing in her sheets, screaming, 'He's killing me! He's murdered me, Mum! Oh God, help me! Help me, Mum!' I'll never forget that sound, never, as long as I live. Over and over, she would shriek and shriek those mindless words. And the _next_ time…I'm sorry, Doctor…she would yell your name. This deafening cry of, 'Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!' repeating endlessly, was the only thing we could get out of her. And…and it still is. For a month and a half, now. She never stops, unless they pump her full of drugs." She blew her nose again and wiped her face. "I…Doctor?" She had finally gotten a look at his face.

A single tear slid quietly down his right cheek. It took an age to reach his black-and-blue chin, and when it did, it dropped onto his brown pinstriped collar, darkening the spot where it landed. Another crawled over his left eyelid, but he made no effort to rid himself of them. His head was bowed in a hopeless, despairing manner. Fury blazed in his eyes, cold, deep fury. He opened his tightened hands, still shaking, and Martha saw that there were bleeding fingernail marks inside the palms.

"I'm so sorry, Jackie," he half-whispered, half-snarled. "I'm sorry…this is my fault…"

"No, no…"

He lifted his head to face her. "You don't…you don't _blame_ me? When it's all my fault?"

"Of course not…"

"Why not?" he inquired forcefully, voice rising to a yell. "Why don't you? Why, when I was the one who took her from you for a year?? When I brought her back, only to steal her away again?? When I was forced to leave her, and…_this _happened?? You don't think I'm to blame? Because I do, and Mickey does, so _why don't you_???"

"How could I blame the man who made my daughter the happiest that she'd ever been?"

He flinched at her tearing words, but offered no response.

"No, Doctor. Those other things were all because of you, I admit, but the one to blame for _this_ is me. I'm her mother; I should have stopped it when I saw it coming. And I didn't. So that makes it my fault."

"Jackie…you are much to forgiving…too much for your own good." He rose from the satin couch suddenly, the rage evident in every move he made. "Where is she?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard. Where is Rose? I'm going to see her, and I'm going to put right that which has been made wrong."

"There he goes with the poetry again," breathed Martha. "You must really love her, Doctor."

He met her gaze and, with painstaking effort, smiled bitterly. "I do, Martha. I really, truly do."

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Oh…so sad…I cried while writing this chapter. Sorry for the angsty-ness from the Doctor, but hey, it was necessary. I hope you don't quit because of it, or anything else that might have offended you. Please don't. Really.

Oh, I want to know if you thought the EmoRose was too much. Please tell me yes or no…I really want to know. Until next Interlude, then.


	11. Interlude 6

Here I am again! I've done 2 chappies and 2 interludes in 1 sitting…I am utterly exhausted. No more from me tonight. Maybe tomorrow; we'll see. For now, enjoy what you have:)did I mention I love you for reading this?:)

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Not this.

Anything but this.

She didn't make it.

She fell.

I pulled her down.

Yes.

Yes, it is my doing.

We were both screaming after all.

But why.

Could I.

Not hear?

I couldn't hear her cries.

And now.

Now.

Now, what?

How will I put this right?

What good will a sonic screwdriver.

Do me now?

I thought she was close, near.

But.

Really.

She's so far gone.

So far away from me.

I cannot feel her anymore.

Now.

That I know.

What my love did to her.

Yes.

Yes.

I will try and fix my mistake.

But afterwards.

She won't.

Call my name.

Again.


	12. On My Way

New chappy!!! Hooray for free time!!!

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"Doctor! Doctor, wait!"

When he did not stray from his one-track pace, Martha sighed and ran to catch up. Mickey was left in the dust, but he was accustomed to the feeling and continued at his leisure. "Doctor?" she repeated.

His face remained carved in a wrathful glare. He gripped the air inside his hands and walked faster, nearing an all-out run. Nothing Martha said or did got any sort of response. "Doctor, what are you going to - to do?"

"Something. Anything. Just seeing her is enough."

"For her or for you?"

Wheeling around suddenly, he towered over her and started to shout. "I don't know, okay? I - don't - know. For once, I haven't the faintest idea how I can do any more than everyone else! _There's_ _absolutely nothing to be done._ All I can do now is just go to her, and wait for something to happen! A miracle, an inspiration, a breakthrough, just _something_! I don't know anymore!"

"But - " the two others protested in unison.

"I don't suppose either of _you _have a better plan, do you?" he snapped "No? I thought as much." Twisting back around, he continued his stiff, abrupt path to the hospital.

"I haven't a clue what he's gonna do," whispered Mickey to Martha, just loudly enough so that the Doctor couldn't hear. "I've seen her; I've visited every day since it happened. And…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just this never-ending scream of "Doctor". No one can get her to do anything else: eat, sleep, nothing. I don't know what he_ can_ do."

"Honestly, neither do I. But you've _seen_ the Doctor, Mickey. You've witnessed his ease at fitting in with the strangest crowds…his simple, unconcerned approach to everything he's faced…the brilliant schemes his mind concocts. He can, Mickey. He's the only one who even has a chance at this. You know it….you might even resent it a little, from what I've heard, but if anyone can save Rose, he can."

Mickey exhaled slowly and turned his head up towards the sky. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right, Martha. How do you, you know, read me so well? I know he can do it…he's the only hope, now…but I wish…"

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, realizing how hard to finish these sentences were for him.

"I wish…I could've done it. Could've helped her more…more than just sitting, terrified, by her bed. That's nothing, though. Not to what he could do for her…"

"You did all you could, Micks. That's all you could do."

He turned sharply and gave her a peculiar smile. "'Micks'?"

A mortified expression replaced the comforting one that had just formed. "I - sorry, um… do you - should I - um, not call you that? Sorry, um…"

He grinned sincerely and told her, "No, um…that's okay. You can call me that…if - if you like." He lips broke into a return grin, and they continued following the Doctor at a distance.

After a few tense minutes, their guide stopped unexpectedly. "This is it. Right, Mickey?"

"Yeah, this's the place." The answerer nodded solemnly and looked up at the depressing building before them.

Martha squinted as she, too, got a look at the hospital. It was a blinding, alien white. No windows, no scratches or spots, just a perfect, eerie white. The creepy building towered at least thirty stories above their heads, and sprawled across an endless stretch of land. It seemed to be a terrible place to be; it was more like a prison than a foundation dedicated to medicine. Then again…

"'Alan Trumansburg's Center for Medicinal Care and Treatment'," read the Doctor off of the unimaginative welcome sign.

" That's the one," sighed Mickey, turning away from the dismal hospital. He'd seen it too many times before; he had no desire to look at it again.

"Bit, you know…miserable-looking. For a hospital." said Martha to herself.

The Doctor didn't hesitate to make for the plain (white) doors and barge in, letting them slam disruptingly behind rudely. The others quickly followed him into the lobby, where the caught up with him at the front desk.

"I'm here to see Rose Tyler," the Doctor said shortly to the receptionist.

"You family?" she asked, not looking up from the magazine she was reading intently.

"No."

"Well, that's that, then. No visitors unless you're family. That's policy for Wards 14 through 39."

"In that case…" Fast as ever, he whipped his blank credentials out of his coat pocket. "Well, you'll see here that I am a certified psychiatric therapist that would very much like to study Ms. Tyler's…ah…condition. Any more policies I should know about?" He shot her a menacing scowl, and she backed off noticeably.

"Of course, sir. Why didn't you say so first thing? Elevators are _that_ way. Or _that_ way, too, I s'pose…doesn't matter. Ward you want is…hold on…nineteen. Room 705. Seventh floor. Go right on ahead, Dr. Smith. And…Doctor?" she called to his retreating back, rising from her uncomfortable computer chair.

He pivoted on his heels and answered, "What?"

"Just…um…don't get your hopes up, alright?" And with that, she sat back down, opened a bag of potato crisps, and went back to reading her article on yet another celebrity breakup.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

They heard the shrieks before they even reached the hallway. From their position, all that was audible was a kind of alien screech; the sound was like tentacles, stretching out in all directions to maim and destroy. Martha gave a small whimper, and slid her arm through Mickey's flirtatiously.

"701…702…703…704…" He paused when they reached 705. Standing right outside the door, he placed a hand on its cold metal surface and was silent, listening to the agonized screams coming from just inside. Mickey and Martha knew better than to interrupt him, so they waited behind him with bated breath. After few long, suspenseful minutes, his head snapped to attention, and he carefully opened the door with a trembling hand.

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I bet I can read your mind right now. Here it is:

**You:** Oh ho ho! What have we here? Another cliffhanger! I think –

**Me:** - I'll congratulate her on her exemplary writing ability?

**You:** - I'll kill her!

**Me:** - face drains of blood - Oh God, no…please…I'm sorry! I swear I won't do it again, I swear!!!

**You:** C'mere you!!! - chases with an evil-looking axe of doom -

**Me:** AIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Oh my God I said I was sorryyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!

**You:** Get back here, you imbecile!!! IMBECILE!!!!!!!

**Me:** -does a Snape and screams- DON'T CALL ME AN IMBECILE!!!!!! RAWRRRRRR!!!! - attacks with a random pomegranate -

**You:** What the hell?????

**Me:** TAKE THAT, _IMBECILE_!!!!! HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW, HUH?????

**You:** I am SO not reading anymore of this fic…

Hehehe I'm right, aren't I? Please don't actually stop reading…I would be so sad…


	13. Interlude 7

Well folks, after much demand, I present to you….Interlude 7!!! -clapclapclap…- -clapping fades away lamely- Yeah, I thought as much. Don't think that I haven't noticed that you guys are skipping over the interludes. Understandable, I know, (chapters are obviously much more exciting than an angsty burble) but it still hurts bit. Just a tiny, insignificant bit, that's all…

-breaks out into full sobs-

Oh, it's nothing…just…just an eyelash…

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, I wouldn't _have_ to write this pointless disclaimer.

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Rage.

Passion.

Guilt.

That's all that flows through me now.

I feel no desire.

No compassion.

No willpower.

I let the impulse take me over.

That loss of control.

Too tempting to deny.

I can lean back and let adrenaline carry me.

And have partial peace.

I can't go back.

My legs won't let me.

All they will allow.

Is the path to her frozen door.

The metal burns a cold brand into my hand.

Scars will heal eventually.

So many that haven't, still.

But these wounds are eating.

At my mind.

And I know I'll be able to feel them.

Forever.


	14. A Thorny Rose

UPDATED!!!! HOORAY!!! As promised, here is the conclusion to the cliffie! Are you proud, Bubblez-rock-your-socks? And everyone else to whom I swore to update? I hope so, and I still love you all! K.W. (Kleenex Warning) for all you emotional people out there.

Disclaimer: Must we go through this again?

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"Rose…" A sickened whisper escaped the Doctor's pale, thin lips. "Rose…" He opened his mouth a little wider, to try and say something, anything else, but neither attempt was successful.

"Oh my…what…oh God," sobbed a trembling Martha. "That…oh, Doctor…" Her voice gave way, and she began to cry softly into the shoulder of Mickey's black t-shirt.

"Oh…Rose…" breathed the Doctor, a suffering expression manifesting slowly. "My Rose…" A strange noise, somewhere between a sob and a cry, came from his throat, and he proceeded to crack into a tortured bout of tears. "…my lovely Rose…_ahhhhhh_…" The sobs he issued were almost like hoarse little screams of torment. "…_ahhhhh_…"

Rose Tyler, _his_ Rose Tyler, no longer existed, not any more. Her normally yellow, glossy hair had nearly completely faded to a sickly, brittle grey. Cheeks, formerly full of vigor and life, were sunken into her face and coloured a deathly white, making her appear as a starving person would. An unseeing glaze covered her sparkling brown eyes, and the customary smile she had was dreadfully absent. The lumps of three tubes were visible from underneath the sheets, and with a sick feeling the Doctor realized that she was alive only because of them. And still, her cracked, bleeding lips hoarsely cried that single, twisting word.

He staggered to the side of her bed and crumpled to the tiled floor next to it. "Rose? Rose, it's me. It's the Doctor… it really is. Can you hear me, Rose?" He lifted her fragile hand and pressed it lovingly to his cheek, a few more valuable tears seeping from beneath closed eyelids. "Can you hear me?"

"She can't," said the nurse in the corner quietly, rising from her chair to go check a monitor. "Not that we know. Nothing registers on her brainwave pattern. She - " The nurse stopped, realizing foolishly that this wasn't the best time to show off her medical knowledge.

"Oh, Rose…what's happened to you? Can't you hear me, Rose? Can't you…" He squeezed her limp hand, laying his head on the bed beside her. The bed sheets absorbed the drops that trickled off of his nose, growing damper each passing second.

"Oh God, Rose…why won't you hear? I'm right here. It's okay, Rose…I'm right here…" He buried his face into the mattress and rocked mournfully back and forth, moaning faintly into the stiff whiteness.

Martha pried herself away from Mickey's arms and tiptoed cautiously up behind the despairing man. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder in a gesture of consolation, but another hand touched her first.

"Let him be," Mickey breathed in her ear. "You think that's going to help? I'm sorry, but at this point, nothing that you or I do is going to be able to comfort him."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the other held a finger to his lips, and she fell silent.

The Doctor continued his lament for longer than any of the others could keep track of. There he knelt, grieving softly for the Rose that wasn't his. In the many minutes he held her hand, she never responded, never gave any signs that she was aware of his presence. Finally, after an ageless period of time, he let it fall back onto the bed and stood up unsteadily.

"She didn't get like this just by slitting her wrist…" he murmured, leaving the abundant tear marks streaking his face alone. "There's something else, something more at work on her than mental scarring…But what?" His eyes remained watery, and he never regained his lost colour, but he kept composure over his woe. "Nurse…"

"Yes, Doctor?" asked the nurse softly.

"How long has she been like this? Physically?"

The nurse, called Faye according to her tag, made for a file cabinet to the left of the monitors. "I don't know, I've only just started…hold on, let me check her records…here!" She pulled a thin folder from the drawer and studied it carefully. "Appearance-wise, she's been failing ever since the third day she awoke, the day she began screaming. Her downward cellular spiral began that day, around two-forty in the afternoon."

"And it's just been worse and worse?"

Nurse Faye replaced the folder and replied, "Yes, physically speaking. She's deteriorated to the point where she can't even breathe by herself; her air supply's coming from that tube you see there. Mentally it's been consistent: no response from any stimuli whatsoever. And the continued cry of 'Doctor' has remained the same as well, although her voice gives out every now and then, understandably. Like now. But otherwise, that's all she does. Literally."

"And you have no idea what's wrong?" His tone was quite different from the one it had been before they had entered the room; it had changed from an enraged snarl to a calm half-whisper.

"None, Doctor. None at all. It's beyond anything we've ever come across before."

He walked slowly to the end of the bed, leaning on the bars. "Not for me," he sighed, staring blankly at the white wall above Rose's head.

Faye gasped and dropped the clipboard she has holding; the crack of plastic snapping could be heard a second later. "You…you're not serious. You're telling me that you know…that you've heard of this disease, when the greatest medical specialists in humanity have been baffled time and time again?"

He lifted his head back and exhaled moodily at the ceiling. "Yes, I know it. I've seen it wipe a whole solar system dead in its purge. I've seen the bravest, most benevolent species in the universe become wild animals in search of the cure. I've seen my own kind wither and crack under its curse. Yes, Nurse, I have most definitely heard of this disease."

Martha and Mickey listened, along with Nurse Faye, in disbelief at the Doctor's diagnosis.

"She's contracted Hala - 3 Cellular Trychionic Syndrome. Commonly known as the Fever of the Taking." He sucked in a breath and held it, before whispering in a steely voice, "And the only known cure in the universe burned at the same time that Gallifrey did."

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I can read your mind again.

**You:** Oh my God, she's killed off Rose…

**Me:** She isn't dead y -

**You:** **- interrupts rudely -** …I THINK I'LL KILL HER!!! **- similar scenario repeats -**

Am I right? Please don't murder me; you forget, she isn't dead yet! There might be extraordinarily small odds that she'll make it, but she's not dead yet!

Oh, I cried while writing this chapter…I love it so much, though.


	15. Interlude 8

I've updated! HA! Beat THAT, fatigue!

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Hope.

It's my favorite emotion.

So light, so free.

Giving you the chance to do.

Anything.

It's how I've lived.

For as long as I can remember

Nothing is impossible.

If I just believe.

I have saved entire civilizations.

On the basis of hope.

I can still reach out.

And hold onto something.

And survive for another day.

Because I hope.

I hope that I can still make it.

Hope can overpower all other emotions.

Pain, anger, rage.

Hope can quiet them all.

Mostly.

But despair.

The despair I can feel now.

I can't seem to cloak it.

With a customary blanket of hope.

In this.

I cannot find any hope.

At all.


	16. The Fever of the Taking

YEAH!!! I am SO happy!!! Another chapter up!!!! FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hooray for angsty Doctor!!! Ok sorry, just HAD to say that…anyway! Here it is, the long-awaited Chapter 8!!! That's not counting interludes, see. Oh hell, you knew that!

Oh also, I caught up on my Doctor Whos and I've noticed some plot holes, so I'm sorry

Disclaimer: Doctor Who was conceived in the mind of a genius. AKA, not me.

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"But…what's that? Something - 3 Cellular Something Syndrome? I've never heard of that illness, not in all the books on medicine I've ever read… And Galeferei? A _solar system_? What _species_? What on Earth are you ranting about?" Nurse Faye's brow creased and she told the Doctor bewilderedly, "I think, _Doctor_, you are a therapist who seems in need of some intense therapy yourself. Certainly your mad babble is just…babble."

"I wish it were," said the Doctor solemnly, staring wisely into space. "I wish that I could tell you it's something else. But you said it yourself: beyond anything you've ever come across _Beyond anything_. And you were quite correct; this is beyond anything humans have ever seen in history. It leeched the life from three solar systems; it poisoned the spirit of a species, and it's loose to wreak havoc on humanity." He turned to Nurse Faye, his face unreadable. "Yes, Nurse, this is beyond anything the poor, naive little Planet Earth has _ever _some across."

"But you never answered my question, Dr. Smith." Faye had started to look at him with mistrustful green eyes. "What did you mean by those words? Is there something I should know about? Because I'm not quite convinced that you _are_ mad. You sound very sane, Dr. Smith, but I think you need to do a bit of explaining." She folded her arms stubbornly and impatiently tapped a pump-clad foot. "I'm waiting, Doctor."

"Yeah, Doctor," piped up Martha. "She's not the only confused one in here. What is this disease, really? What's been done to her?" She nodded in the direction of the poor girl in the hospital bed.

"Come on," the Doctor told the three perplexed bystanders, making for the white door. "Let's go down for a cup. I'll make everything clear," he reassured a protesting Faye. "Just…not here." He pulled his eyes away from the monstrous sight that was Rose and headed out, Martha, Mickey, and the nurse following closely in his wake.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Mickey, pass the sugar. There's a good lad." The Doctor took the dish from him and opened the lid, plucking a cube out and dropped it into the teacup. "Now, let's start with introductions, shall we? Okay, this is - "

"Oi! I know my own name, don't I?" interrupted Martha indignantly. "Martha Jones," she stated, giving a small wave. "Hello."

"Mickey Smith," he said to the table, leaning forward in his uncomfortable cafeteria chair.

"Faye Middleton," said the nurse, glaring suspiciously at each of them. Clearly, she was not light-handed in giving her trust.

"And I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said plainly, letting another sugar cube _plink_ to the bottom of his tea.

"Well, of _course_ you are," said Faye impatiently, "Dr. Smith, you are wasting our time."

He sighed and looked her, vexed, in the eye. "No, I'd prefer just 'the Doctor'."

She raised her hands up and laughed. "All right, all right. I'm backing off. No need to flare up the old ego at me." The seriousness returned to her face and she said, "All right then, _Doctor_, tell your tale."

"I'm afraid _that_ would be much to long and tedious for any of you," he laughed. "But I'll tell you what you _should_ know. Okay…where do I begin…?" _Plink._

"Gallifrey!" Martha volunteered, raising a finger. "You said something about a Gallifrey, before in the room."

"Gallifrey comes last, Martha. Anyway, you've heard of it. A burnt orange sky and two suns, remember?" His eyes held the reminiscent sadness she remembered from that tragic day, and she fell silent, eyes downcast.

"For starters, Faye, you're just going to have to accept the fact that I'm not human." The stunned girl opened her mouth once more, but closed it again at the look on his face. "That simplifies everything. I'm not human, and that is why I know what to do. No other reason. So don't you go contradicting everything I say, because I'm the one who knows what's going on. Any questions?" _Plink._

Faye, mouth agape, shook her head. "No, sir," she breathed, staring at him in wonder. "Sorry, I mean Doctor."

"Right then, let's get started.

"The Fever was an invention of war. A foul, power-hungry species called Suyrites developed the virus as a means of extinction. They tested and poked and prodded in laboratories until they came up with the deadliest inorganic sickness the universe had seen. And it worked. Worked too well in the end. They destroyed themselves by their own hand.

"But now their disease was loose. It spread across the solar system, multiple solar systems, eating its way through life like acid. We - and when I say _we_, Faye, I _don't_ mean humans - were one of the last to be infected, but it didn't make any difference. Millions of my people were slaughtered by the cruel methods invented for the Suyrites' enemies. The cure was discovered too late to save most. I lost a brother…and a daughter to the Plague." His eyes misted over at the memories welling up unexpectedly.

"Anyway…we managed to vanquish the disease on our planet with the cure. But others came looking, others that wanted, _needed_ it. They fought like animals for our cure, which was, at the time, too small in amount and too needed by our own kind to give away. The war cost almost as many as the Fever had." _Plink. _

"We were able to produce the cure in massive quantities, to share it with other needy planets. And we thought we had conquered it, until…"

"Until what?" asked Mickey quietly.

"Until I walked in that room and saw, with my own two eyes, the very same thing that had been done to my eight year-old daughter. The Fever has returned, and it's not going to rest easily." _Plink._

"But you can stop it," Faye said with a concerned, frightened expression. "Your people - you said - you can stop it, can't you? You - you had the cure!"

The Doctor pulled a remorseful expression. "I'm sorry, Faye, I can't. The cure was extract of lithlilium, a rare plant even then. Now it's extinct. It was wiped out the same day its home was destroyed, Gallifrey." He nodded in Martha's direction. "My whole planet…" His eyes went misty again; he _plinked_ a final cube in and lifted it slowly to his lips. "It's gone now. The cure's gone."

"But you can do _something_," cried a suddenly enraged Martha, leaping out of her chair; it teetered for a moment, then fell and skittered to the ground. "You must be able to _do_ something! Can't you? I mean," she shouted, gesturing wildly with her hands, "you're the _Doctor_, for Christ's bleedin' sake!"

"I'm sor - "

"But you _loved_ her, Doctor." Her angry expression broke as tears started trickling down her cheeks. "You _loved_ her. You can't just - just give _up _on her, now can you? She's been waiting for you. Waiting all this time. Didn't - didn't you hear her screaming? _Doctor_. That's what she's saying, over and over again. She's calling for _you_. And if you don't help her, _I_ have to try, because I'm not going to watch you _moping_ around the TARDIS like this." She stopped for breath, which came quickly and deeply after she had finished her speech.

The Doctor, too, rose unexpectedly and started to shout, a wrathful gleam in his eyes. "Don't _you_ go giving me false hope! I can't do anything. _I - can't - do - anything_. Did you see her, up there, in that room? _That_ is the final stage of the disease's progress, the point at which _nothing_ can be done. _Nothing_. Do you think that if there were some way, some means of saving her, that _I_ wouldn't try it? Do you think that badly of me?"

"I - no - "

"I hoped not! Because if there were anything at all that _could_ be done, she'd be sitting right here next to me now, healthy and brilliant, not up there being fed by a tube!" He halted for breath as well, but continued, "I'm sorry Martha, Mickey. There is nothing I can do."

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WooWho!!!!! I love writing!! And yes, I DID listen to you (you know who you are): no cliffy! None! I'll update soon, I promise!


	17. Interlude 9

Am I being foolish?

Am I denying myself the chance?

A chance for me?

Her?

Us?

What is my mind saying?

Telling the world through my lips?

I can't control myself any more.

I don't think this body will last.

For much longer.

What's happening to me?

I have broken the firm grip on my thoughts.

That kept my sanity.

What are these thoughts?

What have I said.

That I might regret?

Since when do I give up?

Since when do I cry so easily?

When did this change in me happen?

When did I start losing myself?

Is it too late for me?

Is this my last coherent thought?

God.

I hope so.

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I know what you're thinking, all you people who have an alert on this story:

**You:** Hm…I got this email that says Love Is A Many Splendored Thing is updated! Yay!

**-reads-**

This is not a chapter. This is an interlude. This is not a chapter…. I think -

**Me:** - I'll give her a warm handshake for the amazingly enigmatic feeling she captured in her poem?

**You:** _I THINK I'LL KILL HER!!!!!!!!_

(You know what happens next)

Yays for more angst! -does happy dance with root beer float in hand- Crap! My shirt!

_**ANYWAY………………**_

This one was a bit cryptic, if you know what I mean. I don't, so congratulate yourself if you do. If you have ANY ideas as to what the HELL I was thinking when I wrote it, please, share with me.


	18. I'm So Sorry

OK y'all I'm reeeeeeally sorry about the late update (as in not in the next 24 hours), but in the past three (four?) days I have had a grand total of ten hours of sleep, so I think I was entitled to a break, don't you? Thank you for being so considerate and understanding. I'll be sure to mention you in my will!

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, this would actually be an episode, and not a fanfic lost in the obscurity of the Internet.

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"So that's it then."

Mickey joined the two standing and spoke with a mix of fury and hurt to the Doctor. "You're just gonna abandon her."

"It's not - "

"You're just going to _leave_ her, chained to that hospital bed, until she just withers away and _dies_. No, don't argue - it's true. You know it; I know it; Martha knows it. Just don't argue, okay?" he repeated, as his adversary began to retaliate. "I don't care if you're a Time Lord, or whatever, I don't care if you're the only one who ever does anything while the rest of the earth cowers in terror, I _don't care_ if you think there's nothing that can be done. For once, for one bloody time since you appearing in your stupid flamin' box, Doctor, Rose Tyler is going to be depending on _me_."

"And me," added Martha, stepping around a fallen chair and planting herself firmly beside Mickey.

"Oh…all right…I guess me, as well," joined in Faye with a sigh, getting up like the rest.

"_What?_" cried three shocked voices. wheeling on the spot to face her.

"You heard; I'm signing up." She stubbornly crossed her arms and stood rooted to where she was. "I don't know exactly what's happening here, and I've figured that compared to you lot I haven't got much to offer, but I don't care. I've seen that disease, and by God, if I don't at least try and rid that poor girl of her affliction, than I might as well be struck down by lightning where I stand." She finished with a grand flourish of an arm; she then re - crossed them and began tapping her foot edgily once again.

A flurry of rushed voices coming from Martha and Mickey hit her full - force:

" - but you're not even - "

" -completely out of your league - "

" -who are you in this, anyway - "

" - completely out of your league - "

" - you're too much of a nag, anyway - " This last snippet of protest came, predictably, from the Doctor.

"_Excuse_ me!" Faye burst out, cheeks burning at the Doctor's ruling on her personality. "I am a certified, qualified, _human_ nurse, thank you _very_ much! I went to university for my 6 years! I think, with _great_ modesty that if anyone here is appropriate for this task, _I_ am!" Huffing and puffing like an irate mother hen, she pushed some stray auburn curls from her sweaty forehead. "Everyone understand?"

"Yes, mum," three voices said, taken aback.

"_Another_ one," muttered the Doctor under his breath, shaking his head in amazement. "Blimey, they're _all_ the same…pushy…irritating…clingy…"

"What?" asked Faye sharply, not quite catching what he had said.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Anyway…I guess I'm off."

Martha looked at him suspiciously and frowned. "Off…_where_, exactly?"

"Oh, somewhere…who knows? That's what makes it more fun, eh?" His regular smile had returned brightly to his face, but lines of sadness lingered in between the glow.

"You mean…you're leaving?"

"Yeah," he said shortly, making for the door with his hands moodily in his trench coat pockets again.

"In…in the TARDIS?"

"Yeah."

"Without me?"

"Yeah."

Her mouth dropped open, and she started ranting furiously. "That's not - I mean - no - I won't - how the - you _can't_!" she burst out, pleading with her eyes. "What about Rose? What about her family? What about - what about _me_?"

The Doctor stated at her vacantly. "I'm sorry."

"You've _got_ to be - "

"I'm sorry," he repeated, swiftly shoving the double white doors askew with a hand and fleeing suddenly from the cafeteria.

"Doctor? Doctor!" Martha leaped so fantastically over a chair that any gymnastics instructor would have burst into tears on the spot, and sprinted after him. "_Doctor!_"

But he seemed not to hear her. The white halls became a blur as she pursued him. Terror, some monstrous creature in her chest made of pure terror, had begun to claw its way up her throat. Surely he was bluffing. He _must_ be…

He was so close; she had seen the flick of brown whip around that corner just ahead…her legs wouldn't move fast enough. At the moment she rounded that corner, another became the goal…come _on_...

She chased him all the way back to the parked TARDIS, nearly a full fifteen - minute run. The pain in her sides, chest, and legs was of no consequence to her anymore, and she made the last dash to the TARDIS door, where he had reached.

"D - doctor - " she panted, falling to the ground in fatigue. "D - don't…don't go…please…n - not without me…p - please…"

He knelt down, grasped her firmly by the elbows, and lifted her to her feet. "I'm so sorry, Martha. I can't…I can't be here anymore. I can't be here with her. I'm not going to watch her die, not again. You can stay, stay and try to do something if you like, but it won't do any good. I don't know…I just don't know anymore. I can't see, I can't think, I'm of no use to you anymore. You see, Martha? She is gone, as am I, and I'm sorry that you have to suffer for me. I'm so, so sorry." And with that, he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it in her face."

"No, you're not leaving me like that…" She seized the door's handle and shook it violently, attempting to no avail to get in. "Doctor!!"

Inside, the Doctor was pressed up against the same door, listening somberly to her pleading cries. How much he wanted to throw it open…to let her come running into his arms as he knew she wanted. But he still lived in a shadow, and it was consuming him. He wouldn't let Martha suffer, like Rose had. He wouldn't hurt anyone else.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The TARDIS was fading, and Martha was screaming.

"Doctor! Doctor, please! Please, I…._I LOVE YOU_!!!"

But the air had ceased its stirring; the grass where the blue box had just stood was blowing softly in the wind. He was gone, and she was alone.

The sorrowful girl fell, once again, onto the grass and cried. Not because she was trapped in an alternate dimension, not because the only man she had ever loved had just disappeared before her eyes. Because she had seen his eyes, and was afraid of what she had seen in them. They were filled with a sort of passionate delusion, some mutated emotion she had never seen before. And it frightened her.

After a couple seconds of hard tears, she picked herself up off of the lawn and started, in a daze, back toward the hospital. Maybe with luck she could catch a bus…but then, she had no money to pay. And even if she did, where would she get off?

But her worries were soon consoled by the sound that reached her ears. A whining, screeching noise filled her head. It invaded her thoughts and touched the back corners of her mind. She whirled around, hope in every fiber of her body, and…

…and she was not disappointed. It was back; her beloved TARDIS had returned. A happy, soaring Martha flew to the door, waiting for it to open again.

"Doctor - !"

"Martha, I'm sorry, I - "

"Yeah, I've heard."

" - I can't get through."

"What?"

"The space that let us through from our universe to this one…it's gone."

"So…that means…"

"Yes. We're trapped. And for the second time in one day, I have absolutely no idea how to solve this."

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OK, I'm sorry; I lied. Yes. This is a cliffy, I know. I'm sorry. Please please please no spanners or pomegranates or dictionaries or bundt cake in the chest, PLEASE. I'm sorry, I just can't help it!!! Sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh and by the way, when the Doctor says "another one" and "they're all pushy……." he's talking about women in general. He's a bit of a sexist.


	19. Interlude 10

Confusion.

Chaos.

Oh my God.

What is this?

What is this?

What is the universe trying to tell me?

What does it want of me now?

Can it not see how tired I am?

Tired of traveling.

Tired of having my heart broken.

Tired of the world always needing something.

Doesn't it care?

Doesn't it know?

My mind is going.

I can feel the pull.

What is everything asking of me now?

What is happening in my brain?

Why is everything burning?

Running didn't work.

Hiding didn't work.

Must I fight?

Again?

I would.

I would.

For her, I would.

But I'm not sure I could take the pain.

Anymore.

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Egads! The Doctor is going daffy! Lol no he's just mentally torn and confused. Which is a fancy way of saying 'daffy.'


	20. Running

Here it is, Bubblez-rocks-your-socks!!!!! Enjoy!!! And to everyone else: enjoy as well!!!!

Disclaimer: Um…do I HAVE to say it AGAIN??? Doctor Who is NOT mine. DUH.

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Faye and Mickey were still chatting in the cafeteria when Martha and the Doctor returned. When the door was thrown open, they both jumped up and immediately started asking questions:

" - what the hell - "

" - don't have the faintest idea - "

" - no clue what - "

" - how do you - "

"Stop it!" shouted Martha, immediately bringing peace. "Guys, we have a serious problem here. The TARDIS is stuck."

Mickey was the only one who reacted to this statement. "How d'you mean, 'stuck?' What's happened?"

"What's a tardis?" inquired Faye, trying to look reasonably concerned.

"Time machine. Don't argue - just, just trust me, okay?" He put up a hand to indicate 'keep your mouth shut for now' and turned back to Mickey. "The gap that we fell through, into your dimension. It's gone."

"How d'you - "

"I don't know, just 'gone'. I haven't a thread of an idea of what's going on, but it's not good." He pushed back his unkempt hair with both hands and left them resting on his head. "It just doesn't make sense. If I could just find some clue…something that would explain even a morsel of the barrier…"

Faye took her chance to be of use. "Well, there's always this alien sickness you were discussing."

The Doctor looked at her as if he might kiss her on the spot. "Yes, yes! That's it, it must be! It's no coincidence, these events. First we miraculously land here, then Rose has the Fever, and then it closes again! It's perfect! Oh, brilliant! Thank you, Faye Middleton!" he cried, hugging her around the waist and spinning her in the air.

"D - don't mention it, Doctor," she replied, blushing messily and hastily going to the mini - fridge for a soda.

"But what sort of…connection is there between all that?" asked Martha. "I mean, besides the fact that it's all bizarre and completely mad."

"Don't know yet," he answered yanking off his trench coat and flinging it to Mickey. "Here, hold this."

"What the he - "

"Oh, just do it, stop complaining. Come on, you lot; we've got research to do!"

"On what?"

"On certain bizarre and completely mad topics! Good enough for you, Martha Jones?" He threw the doors open once again and held them triumphantly out for the others.

"You know it!" she laughed, ducking under his arm and entering the corridor.

The additional two followed suit, one looking slightly put out at the coat he was holding, the other a bit flustered as she sipped her Coke. The suddenly hyper Doctor tore to the lift and pressed the button repeatedly with his thumb, jumping up and down impatiently. Faye, Mickey, and Martha chased after him, struggling to catch up.

"Long - legged people shall be the bane of my existence, I swear," muttered Faye, gasping for breath.

When the lift finally arrived, the Doctor had already gotten to the staircase entrance. The other three sprinted tiredly in his wake, up six flights of stairs, and out another door. By this point, Mickey had started to get a bit aggravated.

"Oi!" he called, but it was pointless; he was already forty feet gone.

"I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours are over, so - " the floor's overseeing nurse called after the retreating form of the Doctor, rising from her desk.

"Don't worry, Alice, he's with me!" gasped Faye as she passed.

"But what - " asked a bewildered Alice.

"No time to explain!" yelled Mickey when he came.

"I say - "

"Sorry, mum!" Martha exclaimed. "Be on our way!"

Alice shook her head and returned to her bills, hoping she would finish by closing time.

Room 705 arrived sooner when running, and Faye was just able to catch the door in time before it shut. Everyone piled inside, wheezing and panting for sweet oxygen.

"What…exactly…are we doing here…Doctor?" gasped Faye, placing a long - fingered hand on the wall for support. "What…do…you plan on…doing?"

"Don't…know yet…" he answered wearily, also grabbing hold of a sturdy object. "Think…of something…eventually."

"I gather…that's rather how you live…all the time, Doctor…" she said with a sparkle in her eye.

"You bet," said Martha and Mickey simultaneously.

After a few minutes of silent rest and recovery, the Doctor stood up straight. "All right! Now, then…Faye!"

"Yes, Doctor!"

"Do you have an MRI machine we might use?"

"Of course," she said, beckoning for him to follow. "Just down here…"

He held up a hand to stop her and motioned for her to return. "I need a gurney for Rose. We're going to wheel her down to the room, all right?"

"Certainly." Faye exited in search of the item.

The Doctor took a second look at the pitiful sight in the bed. Enough self - pity, enough insanity, enough weakness; this was the one moment when he truly needed to be strong. For her, he would be. For her, he would stay himself. He saw her voiceless lips still mouthing that single word; his lips tightened to a pallid white shade, but his cheeks remained dry.

"Doctor?" Mickey had approached the bed cautiously, clutching the coat in his outstretched hands.

He took it back gratefully, but without thanks, and replied, "Yeah?" laying it carelessly on a visitor's chair.

"I was - it's just - you said there wasn't a cure!" he exclaimed, tilting his head in confusion. "Why would you go and try and save her if there wasn't a cure?"

"Because there isn't, Mickey," he said, beaming freely. "And that's what makes it all the more worthwhile to try and rescue her."

"So - that means - " he said, struggling for the right words.

"Come one, Mickey the Idiot, you know me by now. If there isn't a cure, I'll make one up. If that fails, I'll try again, and again, and again, until I get it right."

"But before, you seemed so - so hopeless…"

"You've been in love, haven't you? I think you know what I was feeling…well, never mind, you probably don't. I was scared, Mickey, scared and confused and miserable, and when I get to be that combination of emotions, things start getting a bit - pardon the crude slang - things start getting a bit screwy."

"Tell me about it," Mickey chuckled, and the two laughed together once more.

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Yay!!! I did it!!! No cliffy!!! I think…is it? Please tell me no (you know who you are). Hasta la vista, Doctor!!!!


	21. Interlude 11

Ah.

I had forgotten.

Forgotten how lovely it is.

To love.

To hope.

Forgotten how lonely it is.

To run.

To tire.

How wonderful it is to shine!

I am radiant.

And confidant.

And I will not lose her.

Again.

Maybe it is too late.

Maybe.

Maybe.

But I will try nonetheless.

There's a chance.

A chance for everything.

Everything to be all right.

So I'll take it.

I almost let myself.

Be taken by the darkness.

Manifested from the swarming pain.

Of my heart, but.

No!

I still stand tall.

And I shine.

And there is hope.

Why did I let myself be consumed?

Just when she needed me most?

She needs me.

She.

Needs.

Me.

And that is worth everything.

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Hooray! Another interlude down! I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank all you 4200+ people that have at least clicked on my fic here. THANK YOU!!!!!!!! But that doesn't mean you should stop reviewing. Yes, that means you. YOU.

I'm sorry, but I don't know when i'll get the next chappy up because I am sooooooo tired right now. Blame it on FaCeTeD-DiAmOnD if I don't; I made her an offer tha if she updates tonight, I will, too. Send her lots of nasty PMs if I don't (lol no don't, really, she's really cool and doesn't deserve it. read her fics instead, they're gorgeous. they're Harry Potter, mostly (as in all so far) DraMione pairing. READ!!!)


	22. Fighting and Flirting

I'm so sorry everyone, especially to -FaCeTeD-DiAmOnD- and Bubblez-rocks-your-socks, because they have been the most supportive in this process. Thank you so much, even though I have never met one of you (you know who you are). Back to why I am sorry. The last four days have been so weird for me, and I haven't been able to write for numerous reasons. Anyway, I am truly sorry, so without further ado, here is CHAPTER 11!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, the weeping angels would have been nixed on the storyboard.

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"So what exactly is the MRI machine for?" inquired a curious Faye, wheeling the rusty gurney down the corridor.

"You see what the Fever has done to her, yes?" answered the Doctor from her left, also pushing the stretcher.

"Well…yes."

"And you remember what I said about it being inorganic?"

"Yes."

"Well, with enough jiggery - pokery, and a little bit of luck, I might actually get them to show up on a scan. If we could do that, then…Well, things would be considerably easier." He let go with one hand and reached inside his jacket, emerging with his trusty screwdriver. "With this, that jiggery - pokery should be…fairly easy." He examined it lovingly, turning around to look at it from every direction like a shirt he was thinking about buying.

Faye, too, scrutinized the device. "What is _that_?" she asked, fascinated.

"Oh, just a standard sonic screwdriver…you like it?" A grin passed his face, and he handed it to her to look at more closely.

"Oh…_yes_…" she breathed, mimicking him in turning over and over. "What's it do?" she asked eagerly, giving it back.

"Just about…everything," he said thoughtfully. "Yep, just about."

"Really? You _must_ be - "

"Do I look like the sort of person who jokes?" he said with a straight face.

"Yes," she answered, equally solemn.

They had a short staring contest, lasting about four seconds, and then exploded into peals of laughter, the drugged Rose twitching, then teetering slightly on the gurney.

"Don't mean to be _rude_ or anything," called Martha irritably from a few paces behind, "but haven't we got a _job_ to do?" The flirting was really beginning to piss her off.

"Quite right, Martha," replied Faye, picking up the pace. "Nearly there now."

"Good," said Martha, watching the pair ahead warily.

They reached the MRI room soon after, stopping a bit to catch their breath again. Mickey took the chance to step forward.

"What can I do, Doctor?"

The Doctor scratched his head uncomfortably. "Well, um, I s'pose you could just…why don't you…how about…uh…"

"Remember what I told you, Doctor, back in the apartment." The hard look came back onto Mickey's face.

"C'mere, Mickey," he said finally. "Take Rose and set her up in the machine."

"Right." Sliding his arms underneath her, he lifted her gingerly and carried her into the dark room. The Doctor wished for a fleeting moment that it was he who was holding the diseased girl, but dismissed the thought from his mind. There were more important things to be focused on.

"You know how to work an MRI, don't you Faye?" he asked, rushing after Mickey with his screwdriver held at the ready.

"Yes, I - I suppose so, if the situation calls for it, but - "

"Believe me, it calls for it. Can you please? Hurry?" He waved her away impatiently in the direction of the machine's operating room, and Martha smirked a little to herself.

The Doctor focused his attention on readying the MRI. He scurried around the huge white apparatus, using the screwdriver on numerous, random parts that Faye couldn't see any connection between. Finally, after a few minutes, he leaped upright with a yell of triumph.

"Ha! Got it! We've got it, Faye!" he cried through the glass window separating them.

She gave a joyous thumbs-up in return and went back to fiddling with the controls.

He ran back outside and slammed the door. "Mickey, go inside with her. I'm sure she could use your help." Mickey gave a nod and hurried to her side.

"What about me?" asked Martha, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

The Doctor seated himself in one of the hard green waiting chairs across from the door and patted the one next to him. "You, my Martha Jones, are going to keep me company."

"You're joking."

"No, what's wrong with that?" he asked innocently.

"You expect me to _sit _here for _forty-five minutes_, with you, waiting for the love of your life to be _miraculously_ cured, with that - that _nurse_ in there, and just - just _sit here_?" she exploded.

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

"Oh my God…" she muttered, plopping solidly into the chair. "For a lord of time, you're awfully thick."

"Oi!" he cried resentfully.

"Doctor, this whole _bloody_ day, you haven't even asked me how I feel. _Once_. Not _once_."

"Well, I just assumed that - "

"Exactly, you just assumed that everything was laughing-happy-bunnies like it normally is. But you didn't _think_, Doctor. Think now. How might I be feeling at the moment?"

"Um…well, overwhelmed, I s'pose…" He began rubbing the back of his head again, looking a bit awkward.

Martha sighed exasperatedly and cried, "Well, yes! We show up, unexpectedly, in the very same place where your lost lover that you had _just gotten 'round_ to telling me about _happened_ to be. Then we find out that she has a fatal alien disease, and you go all _emo _on me! Then you start flirting with the nurse, and - "

"It wasn't - "

"Just _let me finish_! _Then_, you start getting all friendly with Faye! What was all _that _about, anyway? Then you get all hyperactive trying to save Rose, and I'm left in the dust!" She finished her reprimand, breathing heavily.

"Well, yeah, but you were okay. You had Mickey."

"Ha! Mickey. One other boy still lost in the shadow of _Rose Tyler_. How long did you see him keep his attention on me after you came along, huh? After he was given a glimmer of hope that his darling Rose could come back to life, he lost all eyes for me. Just like you."

"I'm sorry, Martha," he apologized painfully, realizing the utter stupidity of his mistake. "I'm so sorry. I -"

"I've heard you say "I'm sorry" too many times today, Doctor, to honestly believe you now." she laughed bitterly. "I don't think it's going to be quite enough this time, do you?" She pushed herself roughly away from the chair and turned in the direction of the lift. "Find someone else to ignore." Her figure grew smaller and smaller as she walked away from him.

"Doctor, we're ready to start the scan!" shouted Mickey from the operating room. "Everything good to go?"

He sighed and watched as Martha's back became invisible. "Good to go, Mickey," he called back, placing his chin on his fist in deep thought. "Everything good to go."

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Hahahahahaha!!!! EmoMartha!!!! Yay now she's mad at him!!! It's all part of the MASTER PLAN!!! Sorry, MarthaLovers, don't bash me too hard (cringes).

I'm so proud that I updated!!! Whoray!!!! (lol)

OMG I just watched the episode Blink on Youtube. I HATE THE WEEPING ANGELS. oh my god I am gonna have frickin NIGHTMARES about those things. The part where the brother turns his head and turns back and it's like "NYEEEEEAAAHHHHHHHH" in his face???????? I screamed, literally! My mom came in and I just managed to get in bed and pretend I was asleep, when really I was hyperventilating. Sorry to all the fellow americans who haven't seen it yet and to all the brits who haven't either, for some weird reason….


	23. Interlude 12

Here is Interlude 12.

Not much else to say.

I have a math exam tomorrow that I should be studying for.

But I'm not.

Ha.

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Okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Yes.

Well.

Okay.

This is something.

I've never experienced.

I don't know what to call it.

Exactly.

I'm confused.

Why does she glower at me like that?

Why does she smile at me like that?

Why does _she_ make my heart do that?

What is this?

Today.

Sure is strange.

As are women.

And humans.

What did I do wrong?

By showing her my screwdriver?

I didn't mean to get here.

You know.

What is this?

What am I supposed to be doing?

Do I go after her?

Do I wait here?

Do I choose the third path?

What is this?

This shouldn't be a choice.

It isn't.

Is it?

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LOL the Doctor is experiencing jealousy!!! Hahaha he is soooooo oblivious!!!!! I heart him so much. :

(the angels are STILL creepy………)

(still…..)

(STILL…..)

DON'T BLINK.

haha made you jump! (if you've seen it, that is. have you?)


	24. Strength and Weakness

I made up a non-rhyming song!!! Wanna hear??

_I-have-exams-and-I-should-be-studying-but-no-no-no-I-am-writing-fanfics-yeah-yeah-it-is-so-o-much-more-fun-than-andrew-jackson-or-habeas-corpuuuuuuuuuuus-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-I-don't-really-like-spanish-anyway-who-cares-about-stemchanging-veeeeeeeerbs-I'm-taking-latin-in-high-school-anywaaaaaaaaaaaaay-_

_please-oh-please-don't-let-me-fail-but-don't-make-me-turn-off-this-lovely-computer-screen-eiiiiitheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrr-no-no-no-no-noo-oooh-ooooh_

_I-have-exams-and-i-should-be-studying-but-no-no-no-i-am-writing-fanfiiiiiiiiiics-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeahhhhhh-woaahhh-woah-yeah_

Well?? What do you think? Catchy, huh? It goes to any tune you please, kind of like the Hogwarts school song, but with MUCH better lyrics than that. Sing it out, my fellow procrastinators, SING!!!!!!

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"Ready to begin MRI in three…two…one…and it's on!" Faye opened the door a crack and grinned broadly at the seated Doctor. "It should be done in approximately thirty-eight minutes, Doctor," she told him happily. "Where's Martha?"

"She went downstairs for a bit," he invented wildly on the spot. "Bit - er- overwhelming for her, if you know what I mean."

Faye nodded and sat down beside him where Martha had been only moments before; the Doctor had an intuitive feeling that that was somehow bad, but ignored it.

"Yeah, you know, hospitals, sick people and all, it just kind of went to her head, so she went for a cup, just downstairs, you know, hasn't _left_ or anything - "

"Doctor." Her interruption mercifully ceased his incomprehensive babble.

"Hm? What? Have I said something - "

"Where has she gone? Really?"

He sighed and stared straight in front of him at the blank wall opposite. "I don't know. Somewhere. Not here. Somewhere. She'll come back."

Faye put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he felt a cold shiver go through him that had nothing to do with the temperature. He could almost hear Martha now: _flirting with the nurse…_

"Go after her."

"What?"

"Go after her," she repeated, giving a small nod in the direction of the lift.

"I - can't," he told her firmly, sucking in a breath. "Rose needs me."

"Rose is going to be inside a plastic tube for…thirty-six minutes, Doctor," she said with a friend-ish smile. "You have time."

He exhaled slowly and looked away from her, confusion wracking his thoughts. He should stay with Rose, he knew, even if she _were_ going to be in an MRI cylinder for the next half-hour. But somewhere in his head he knew that his staying would not be for Rose. Was this what Martha had been so angry about? His unapparent fidelity? Or was it something else? His mind wandered back to the three muffled words he had tried to block out of his ears while inside the TARDIS, and a sickening wave of revelation crashed on top of him.

"I've gotta go," he mumbled, bounding impulsively from the chair and flying down the hall.

Faye smiled sadly to herself and went back to the control room.

"Everything alright?" Mickey inquired as she walked in, noting her long face.

"I did it, Mickey," she said, a small whimper escaping her throat.

"Did what?" he asked, looking at her with a fair amount of concern.

"I've pushed him…away. I did. He…will no longer haunt me." She breathed a soulful sigh and shut her eyes tightly, a tear squeezing past an eyelid. "His heart is untouchable to me now. As is mine…to him." Her shoulders began to shudder like a small earthquake, and her face warped into that of an anguished widow. "Oh…I've done it…thank you…"

Mickey immediately wrapped his arms around her consolingly. "What do you mean? What's happened?"

"Oh, Mickey, you are much too kind," she laughed wetly, sniffling noisily. "I don't deserve this, you know…"

"Tell me. What's he done now?"

She gave another watery chuckle and lifted his arms away from her body. "I almost ended up like her, Mickey," she sobbed, indicating shakily through the glass to the limp girl still being scanned inside. "I almost fell in love with him, just like her. _Just like her_." She blubbered on inaudibly until able to gather herself up for more words. "If I had…oh Mickey…if I had, would I be lying there in a year's time? Two? Three? But I would, wouldn't I? I've seen the Doctor now. I don't know him very well, but I think I know him just as well as anyone ever will, don't I? You know, don't you? I would have fallen in love with him sooner or later, and who knows? Maybe he would have fallen for me in return. But then where would we have been? You know that, too, don't you? _Don't you?_" she practically screamed at him, tears flooding her speech.

"Yeah…yeah, I do," he agreed hastily, nodding.

"We would be nothing. The glory of it all would be consumed by some other, more powerful, more terrible force that consumed also the beautiful girl we see before us. He would be gone from me, as he was gone from her, and it would be I lying broken on a hospital bed. Do you see, Mickey? Do you see why I had to?" she asked him frantically, although it was not really him that she was trying to convince.

"I see, Faye," he told her quietly, embracing her once more. "I see, and it's okay. You did the right thing. You did. _Really_." He turned away to peer through the window again. "All in all, though, she was probably stronger than you were."

Her tear-streaked, porcelain face darkened for a millisecond, but reverted immediately back to normal. "How?" she asked in a whisper, a strange emotion beginning to contort her features. "How am…_I_ the weak one? I…._stopped_ myself!" she cried suddenly, her voice escalating and making him start. "_I_ stayed_ out_ of his grasp! _I_ didn't let him ensnare _my _heart! But _she,_" Faye yelled, pointing furiously with an almost hateful finger. "she hurt _him_! She hurt _herself_! Look where she is _now_, after giving him her soul! How, may I ask, _how_ is that _strength_?" Twisted eyes begged for some form of denial.

"She is strong because she let it happen," he said simply, and Faye's eyes widened in hurt. "She's a smart one, Rose is. She figured it out that she couldn't stay with him forever. Yet she chose to stay for as long as she could. Do you know why?"

Faye shook her head very, very slowly, that same crazed look etched into her face.

"Because she loved him. She loved him so much that she didn't care what happened to her in the process. And he didn't stop her. Know why_ that_ was?

_Shake, shake._

"Because he loved her. And he had been through the same thing so many times, and he already knew the ending, so he didn't bother trying. He let it unfold, because there was nothing else to do; she let herself be taken, because she wanted it so badly, and _that_, Faye Middleton, _that_ is real strength right there."

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YES!!! ahaha!!! I updated!!!! oh so happy!!! we only have 1 computer in our house, since our desktop broke, and it happens to be MY laptop. so my MOTHER keeps STEALING it at night, making up excuses because she knows I stay up late in it. but I managed to update!!! thank you guys for reading this, and once again, MANYMANYMANY thanks to ……

-FaCeTeD-DiAmOnD- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	25. Interlude 13

Okey-day here is the next interluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude. Yeah. That was weird. Forget it ever happened.

OK, who else here thinks that Avril Lavigne's song Girlfriend is the "best" song ever? -cough cough- Me too. My friends and I have this weird thing about that song, and whenever it's played at a party or dance we break out into a wild, demented cancan. _Don't we_, -FaCeTeD-DiAmOnd- ??? Lol it is hilarious AND fun! ok just ignore me and read.

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Tired.

Running.

Again.

I have to tell her.

Have to explain somehow.

She doesn't understand.

No one can understand.

She doesn't get.

How hard it is.

For me.

I see them come.

Always leaving.

I've loved them all.

And that hurts me.

Does she not know.

What that does to me?

The way I feel for her.

Is something I've felt so many times.

But the way I feel for Rose.

Is something much different.

I wish.

Oh, I wish.

I could see you.

The way you see me.

But I can't.

And I'm sorry.

I really am.

Sorry.


	26. Consolation

arrgh!!!! I WANT MY COMPUTER!!! sorry to dump my probs on you, but i am MAD, oh yes i am. well, i got ahold of it for a few minutes here and there, and managed to scrape together this chappy. hope you like. Disclaimer: ...grrr...whatever...don't own it, k? 

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"Martha! _Martha_!" The Doctor clutched his side, trying to muffle the searing pain in his lungs, but to no avail. "_MARTHA!_" he shouted again.

The indifferent Martha paid no heed to his cries, and kept up her furiously fast pace down the sidewalk.

"Martha, please! Be reasonable!"

At this she whirled around, livid eyes brimming in withheld tears. "_Reasonable_? You're joking, right? I don't think _I'm_ the one that needs to be _reasonable_, Doctor!" She broke into an almost-run, trying to put as much distance between him and her.

He made one last attempt to stop her. "Martha! Martha, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't feel the same thing for you…that you do for me. I'm so sorry. D'you hear me? _I'm sorry_!"

Hearing this, Martha stopped short, fists clenched tightly at her sides. He thought for a second that she was going to dash away again, but then her body began to wobble slightly, and her head, bent down, was suddenly hidden from him

The Doctor immediately sprinted to her side, gazing in horror as she began to sob. He stood there, forlornly watching the brokenhearted girl. These things seemed to happen to him an awful lot, he thought fleetingly, but the notion passed soon.

He patted her awkwardly on the back, and when she did not recoil, put a long arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, too, Doctor," she sniveled soggily. "I should've…I didn't think…you love her. And I was jealous, and I overreacted. I…wish things could've turned out…y'know…different. But they won't, will they?" She searched his face for contradiction, but was disappointed.

"No," she said softly. "No, they won't. It's not your fault, it's not my fault, it's just…the universe, I s'pose."

She gave a hiccupy chuckle and said, "_So_ you, Doctor. Blaming everything on 'the universe' and 'time' and 'fate.' I don't know who or what to blame…but I'm definitely _not_ gonna risk scapegoating the universe."

He also laughed and ruffled her hair playfully, to which she cried, "Oi! Let it alone!"

"Sorry."

"It's OK."

They stood there uncomfortably, until Martha giggled eerily and said, "Gay baby."

"Oh, no no no no _no_," exclaimed the Doctor, shaking his head in scorn. "Not _that _again."

She laughed loudly, still a bit teary-eyed, and pushed him teasingly. "Thanks a lot, insulting my habits, now, are we?"

"C'mon, we'd better start heading back," he said, avoiding the question. His hands went deep into his pockets, and he turned to proceed to the huge white hospital. "What's up?" he asked, seeing her hesitation.

"Back to Rose," she sighed, shutting her eyes to confine the sadness desperate to be freed. "I s'pose I'll just have to accept it, won't I?"

"Yes," he said simply, holding out a hand for her and grinning that mischievous grin.

She smiled sadly and took it, wishing with all her might that he would never, ever let it go.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"How's everything going?" the Doctor asked when they returned to the MRI room a few minutes later.

"Um…great," replied Mickey distractedly, looking intently at some monitor. "Everything's fine."

"Good," said the Doctor, scanning the area without much interest. "So then, where's Faye?"

"She's…she's in the loo," he answered uncomfortably, still not looking in their direction. "Had a bit of an emergency, I think."

"What kind of emergency?" interrogated the Doctor daftly, causing Martha to give him a "duh" look.

"Erm…something about Mexican food, I believe…left in quite a hurry…you know…" Mickey wasn't used to lying, and consequently was not very convincing at it.

"Is that so?" The Doctor raised and eyebrow disbelievingly

"…yeah."

"Hm."

"Yes," he said, slightly more confidently. "She should be back any minute."

"OK," the Doctor said cheerfully, settling into a nearby swivel chair. "How long until the scan's finished?"

Mickey examined a screen and said, "Twenty-one. Minutes, that is."

He groaned and spun moodily around in his rolling chair. "Damn, that's too long. Those nanomicrobes, they're eating at her brain. We need all the time we can get." He jumped up and made for the door to the scam room. "With a bit more jiggery - pokery, I could probably speed up the process…"

"You can't go_ in_ there, Doctor!" exclaimed Mickey, leaping after him. "The radiation…!"

"He _absorbs_ that stuff," said Martha frankly, patting him lightly on the shoulder. "You get to learning these things when you're with him for a bit.

"Well I can't exactly say I'm surprised," he muttered, heading back to his post. Martha smiled broadly, knowing exactly what he meant, and followed close behind.

From the large glass window, they once again witnessed the Doctor madly fiddling at various points with his screwdriver, on occasion frowning and cursing under his breath. An instant later, he popped back up from behind a panel and gave them a double thumbs-up, and Mickey immediately turned the machine off. He scooped Rose up into his arms and kicked the door to the room wide open, Martha hurrying to get the gurney.

"No, it's OK," he told her gently. "I'll carry her back." She nodded, tight-lipped, and pushed the gurney along the hall together with Mickey, both of them flushing slightly at his obvious, lovesick behavior.

Once back at room 705, the Doctor laid Rose tenderly on the hard bed, fixing her hair so that it didn't cover her face. "Can you access the results from here, Mickey?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding confidently.

"Do it." The Doctor turned back to Rose, stroking her dry cheek lovingly. "Don't you worry, Rose Tyler," he whispered, smiling at her. "I'm coming to save you."

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Huzzah!!!! Huzzah!!! He's-gonna-save-her-he's-gonna-save-her oh so happpyyyyyyyyy!!!! well duh this is MY story... whatever please review if you like! or if you don't, but hopefully you do... shutupshutupshutup... 


	27. Interlude 14

Well.

That's settled.

I think she'll be okay.

Now.

I hope.

Did I make the right choice?

Did I do the right thing?

I think I did.

She'll be fine without me.

Or at least, without me.

In that way.

I think.

How would I know?

I'm not really very.

Empathetic, you know.

Oh, well.

Now.

I can focus on my lovely, wilted flower.

Work to bring her back to full bloom.

Is that selfish?

Nah.

It's not like Martha's alone.

Like I am.

But am I really?

People who love me.

The make me believe I am not.

They make me feel tall.

And strong.

And able to reach the sky.

They take the loneliness away.

So I don't know.

But maybe.

It's just.

Wishful thinking.

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same old happy ramble…blah blah blah review blah blah blah parents blah computer blah happy blah…..


	28. Finding a Cure

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGHOLYSH-THOLYSH-THOLYSH--------T!!!!!!! I JUST SAW UTOPIA AND IT WAS FANTAAAAAAASTIC OMG OMGGGGGGG!!!!!1 im from the wrong generation to know who the Master is, but OMG I looked him up and OMG he is baaaaaaack!!! sooooo coooooooooool!!!!!! and dammit russell t. davies (damn him) stole my idea for a fic I was gonna have someone else have a chameleon/watch thingy and be a time lord….. drat…

OK mad rant: over. Fin. Done. Fine.

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, I would have written Utopia MYSELF. Uh-huh, uh-huh, that's right.

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"Here you are, Doctor," said Mickey, nodding at the computer screen. "There it is."

"Oh my…" gasped Faye, who had returned from "the bathroom" a moment earlier, looking slightly disheveled.

"Yep," said the Doctor, popping the "p" and frowning in concentration. "That's it. That's the essence of the fever. Those tiny whitish blobs? They're collectives of the nanomicrobes that get inside your brain. And even though they're inorganic, they still multiply." He gave a dry raspberry and reached for his thick black glasses. "Overall one of the most tricky and annoying diseases ever evolved."

Martha suddenly snapped to attention, giving the Doctor a horrified look. "Doctor! But you said…you said it was a plague! So doesn't that make it contagious?"

"Oh, yes, very much so," he answered unconcernedly. "But the trick is, it can only get in an open wound. And during a war, those aren't hard to find, you can imagine. With Rose, I'd say it infected - we'll, invaded, more like - her when she started cutting herself. Come to think of it," he muttered, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, "Rose really isn't one to just go and commit suicide…not without some sort of provocation, that is…"

Mickey jumped in. "The Fever? That's what made her slit her wrist?"

"Well, probably. Most likely. I'd say…ninety-nine percent chance, at the _very_ least. Very _very_ least. It starts on your mind first, feeds off of strong emotion. Pain, sadness…loss. It must've had a field day inside her, what with all that _feeling_."

"OK, so we know _what_ it is, we know _where_ it is," interrupted Faye brusquely, "how do we _stop_ it?"

The Doctor whipped off his glasses and creased his brow even deeper. "That's the trouble. There isn't a cure, not any more. I'll have to make one from scratch."

"You're gonna invent a cure, just like that?" asked Martha incredulously. "Just…right outta thin air?"

"I most certainly am!" he cried, sticking out his lower lip and grinning at her. "C'mon, you're a medical student, show it a little."

"Hey, I'm doing my best just trying to keep up with the history bit, not to mention the science."

He raised his eyebrows in such a way that it made her feel stupid to look at him.

"Um…well, if they're inorganic, we can't kill them with antibiotics…erm…or herbal remedies…or chemotherapy…um…but we could possibly…possibly…send in something else to do the job?" she finished timidly, still not achieving eye contact.

"Yes! Good for you, Martha. We have to find something small and lethal enough to enter her brain and eliminate the microbes. I've just gotta figure out what…" He slouched in the chair and cupped his chin in his hands, focusing on the computer.

"There's always nanobots," suggested Mickey casually, shrugging.

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at him in surprise.

"Or not…I mean, if it's a bad idea…sorry, just forget - "

The Doctor looked at him like he'd been punched in the face again. "Mickey Smith, when did you become such a scientist? That's _brilliant_! Oh, why didn't I think of that? Of course! Nanobots to fight nanomicrobes! Genius, absolutely genius!"

Mickey looked a bit abashed and scratched his upper arm nervously. "So I guess this means I ain't the tin dog anymore, eh, Doctor?" He swiveled around in the chair and smiled sheepishly at him.

"Definitely not," he agreed, thumping Mickey hard on the back. "Definitely, definitely not. I'm in _awe_, I really am! I never would have thought you capable of - "

"Yeah, yeah, enough with these compliments."

"Right. Sorry, erm…well, anyone know where we can find some nanobots? Um…"

He received three blank glances and slow headshakes.

"Right then, um, get to it Mickey, eh?"

Mickey gaped at him disbelievingly, but switched his attention back to the computer with a forced sigh and began to type.

"Faye!"

"Yes, Doctor?" she answered, face totally devoid of expression.

"Do _you_ know anything about nanobots?"

"Only what I've read in university textbooks."

"OK, _that _helps, I _wrote_ a few of those…Martha!" he exclaimed, pointing to her with an exuberant finger. "Anything, anything at all? No textbooks, though, just anything, you know, _else_?"

She squeezed her eyebrows together as though straining to hold her breath, but burst out with a fierce shake of the head. "Sorry, nothing. Except textbooks, but…"

"Yes, well, like I said, doesn't help. Mickey! You seem to be on a role today; first you slug me, then you upstage me at my own game! Got something?"

"Think I might, Doctor," he replied, eyes intent upon the screen. "C'mere and take a look."

He began his explanation. "See, this hospital, the…uh…Adam Thurensbard - "

"Alan Trumansburg's Center for Medicinal Care and Treatment," recited Faye, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, that, well, they're not just a hospital, I think."

"How do you mean, not _just_ a hospital?" Faye asked, concern rising in her eyes.

"They've got this research laboratory - erm - thing hidden in one of the rooms, apparently. Well, that's probably what it is. It don't look right, see, because the blueprints don't match up with the schematics they show you in the lift and the lobby and such. According to the blueprints, there's one extra room in this building." He stopped for breath, swiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. "I'd be willing to bet that's there for a reason, and it seems awfully suspicious that it would happen to occur in the same hospital where an alien disease is active."

"Oh, yes, of course," agreed the Doctor, also searching the screen with his eyes. "Can I - ?" he asked, gesturing at the computer.

"Sure, help yourself." Mickey stood to let him sit in the uncomfortable chair.

"I think you might be onto something here, Mickey," he muttered as he typed furiously. "Where did you go to find all this information? What sources did you use?"

"Oh, the usual. Hacked into the city's records, did a bit of surfing on the Web, and there it was."

"Ah," said the Doctor enigmatically, "but you forgot one very good, if not totally reliable, place for data."

"What's that, then?"

"Chat forums!" he cried happily, swinging around. "Always give a listen to the poor, lifeless - figuratively speaking, of course - souls who spend their days discussing theories on the Internet! And here, I think we might have something to thank them for."

"What is it?" asked Martha, peering as best she could at the site.

"According to the theorists, it _is_ in fact some sort of laboratory. There's some dispute about what exactly they're doing in there, but I could guess, what with all these horribly convenient coincidences - "

"Nanobots!" cried three triumphant voices.

"Correctamundo! Oh, hell, I thought I'd never use that word again…anyway! Yes, you're absolutely right! Or, you probably are, that is. Mickey, d'you happen to know _which _room exactly is the "lost" one?"

"Room 1313," said Mickey promptly.

The Doctor rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh, now _that's_ original. Why's it always have to be something superstitious, why can't it be something nice, like - oh, I dunno - "453"? Or just plain "101"? Why's it always "13" or "666"?"

No one answered, assuming correctly that they were rhetorical questions, and a few moments of silence ensued.

"Ga - "

"Don't you start _that_ again," the Doctor cut off, giving her a meaningful look.

"Sorry," Martha apologized, smiling slightly.

"Doctor?" asked Faye urgently, worry clouding her eyes.

"Hmm, yes?"

"You said they could get in through open flesh, didn't you?"

"Right I did, what's your point?"

Faye glanced around nervously, rubbing her hands together. "It's just…well…erm…" Her eyes flitted back and forth between the ceiling and the Doctor's hands, now gripping the armrests of the chair.

Martha swayed slightly, realizing where she was going. "And you said it was…highly contagious? And…very quick to act?"

"Right again; it was a plague, after all. So what…" He trailed off, grasping what they were saying, and slowly turned his palms over.

Everyone stared in horror at the eight minute, moon-shaped cuts that lay there, just the size of a fingernail.

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AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHA! HAHAHA! HA! another cliffie!!!!! and a big one this time!!!! wheeeee I luuuuuuuuuurve being evil!!! ha!

you remember how he got those, right? when Jackie was telling the story of Rose and he was clenching his fists? yeah it was then. chapter 10 if you didn't know, Rose's Condition.


	29. Interlude 15

I just realized: Martha isn't really behaving much like a medical student, is she? Well, duh, it's contagious if it's a plague! You don't need to be a medical student to figure that one out! Yeah, I kinda dumbed down some of the characters. Sorry about that.

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Serenity is me.

I am serenity.

Interesting, perhaps.

But I've faced death before.

It's nothing new.

This is the calm.

The eye of the storm.

I wish it could last forever.

But I know it won't.

Nothing does.

Sarah Jane knew.

Everything has its time.

Everything ends.

She was right.

More so than she knew.

Sure.

It's all OK.

Now.

But the eternal pessimist within me.

Is still screaming.

IT WON'T LAST.

DON'T GET YOUR HOPES UP.

HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY TURN OUT RIGHT?

JUST GIVE UP NOW WHILE YOU CAN.

These wicked, spiteful voices.

Inside my head, they twist.

My opinions into cynical poison.

I can save her, yes.

BUT CAN YOU SAVE YOURSELF?


	30. The Doctor's Daymares

Huzzah for me! And to all of you loverly readers, I love you and huzzah! I know you are all staring at your screens, panting ferociously, and most of you have probably skipped this author's note, so I will just shut up now. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Real Doctor Who writers don't leave such nasty little cliffhangers as I do. Therefore, I am not one of them. Therefore, I do not own Doctor Who. Therefore, I will shut up.

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"Does anyone else have an open wound?" asked the Doctor, face a hard mask of worry. "A cut, a scrape, anything? _ANYONE_?" He shoved the chair away, looking at each of them with a mad, ferocious anxiety.

They checked their bodies up and down, but for each of them the answer was negative.

"But…oh my God, Doctor…what about you?" whispered Martha, who had begun to shake violently.

"What about me?" he asked, his tone giving nothing away about how he was feeling.

"You…you're infected, aren't you? You've got it? The Fever?" For the second time in the last half-hour, her eyes began to water heavily. "Doctor…you have, haven't you?" 

He stared at her with deep, old, wise eyes and answered simply, "Yes."

Martha broke down and cried to herself, Mickey coming from behind and gripping her shoulders; she gladly fell into his arms. Mickey himself looked, frightened, at the Doctor, pain evident in his dark eyes. Faye looked utterly stunned for about a minute, then went to work gathering useful papers and records for the research they would be doing.

"I suppose we'd better get to work, then. We need all the time we can get," Faye stated briskly, in the middle of freeing the pages of a three-inch binder. "Come on, you lot, get to it!" she snapped, glancing only momentarily at the Doctor himself. "You, grab that book over there…take these for me, will you? No, not that one…next shelf…"

The Doctor stood with his back to them, staring with glazed eyes at his palms and letting his thoughts float lazily. He'd realized, realized back when he first diagnosed Rose with the Fever. That was partially why he had run; he hadn't known what else to do. For once in his epic life, he'd run as fast as possible from death. Not escaping, as per usual, just fleeing. And that, above all, had frightened him. The thought of watching everything fade as he slipped farther and farther from reality. When it really got down to it, the Doctor _did_ fear death, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. And fear, true, bottomless fear itself, was ultimately what he was afraid of.

Which also frightened him.

Time Lord or not, he had human flaws.

"Doctor…" called a distant voice. "Doctor!"

He snatched his mind back to Earth. "Hmm, yes?" he asked distractedly, opening and closing his hands as though trying to rid himself of the marks that ate their way into his flesh. He was surprised to see that Mickey and Faye had exited the room in his absence.

Martha, who had apparently finished crying in the space of time he had been drifting, took both of his hands in hers and squeezed them affectionately. "How long? Until you start…you know…?"

"Losing myself?" he finished numbly.

She nodded and squeezed tighter, as though by doing so she could halt the tears threatening to betray her composure "Yeah, that."

He shrugged and gripped her hands in return. "Oh, I dunno. Maybe…an hour?"

A gasp escaped her lips and she asked frantically, "But why? Why so short?"

"I haven't told you this, nor do I want you to tell the others, but I think something bigger is behind this. The Fever of the Taking: that's meant to be extinct for centuries and centuries. It's not a coincidence that Rose happened to be the first - and, as far as we know, the only - person on earth that was tainted by it. Something strong, and clever, has some sort of grand plan for me. Didn't you hear her shout? "Doctor," over and over again. Not "Mickey," not "Mum" or "Dad," just "Doctor". I think whatever this force is, it's not after her. It's after me. So I don't think it'll stop at the chance to be rid of me, because it seems like that's what it wants."

Martha nodded firmly and hugged him, though the hug was a friendly one. "If you say so. Can't really say I'm surprised, am I? Nothing's a coincidence with you, is it?"

"No," he laughed shakily, returning the hug and rocking them both back and forth. "Never is, never has been, never will be."

They stood there, speaking without words, until Martha pulled away and looked him in the eye. "C'mon, let's go. Faye and Mickey're probably waiting."

"Oh, that's right, where've they gone?"

"Room 1313," she told him, traces of exasperation laced in her flowing voice. "Let's not waste any more time than we need to, shall we? We've got an hour…wait, fifty-five minutes to figure this out."

"How d'you figure that one out?" asked the Doctor, reaching absently for his trench coat and was surprised to find his hand grabbing on thin air.

"Oh, Mickey took it for you. Said you'd probably give it to him, besides. Anyway, well, what are we going to do without you, Doctor? Faye acts smart, but she's really just clueless; Mickey's all right, but I dunno how well he'd work under really tough circumstances, he doesn't seem like the coping sort of guy, does he? And me, well…let's just say that by that time, if we still haven't a cure, I'll probably be crying in a corner, trying to hide from the world." She grinned and gestured towards the door. "So what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

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aaaaaagh a shorty chappy!! (cringe) choppy ending, I know, sorry. I just reeeeeeeally wanted to wrap up that last cliffie, there. yeah, so I did (hopefully). hope you're still on the edge of your swivel chair, though. or if you don't have a swivel chair, then on the edge of whatever you're sitting on: a garbage can, your dog, whatever. edges, please!

Lady Timelord, you got your wish! Because you said pwetty please, obviously. the magic word(s)!

-FaCeTeD-DiAmOnD-, read this or…

DIE.


	31. Interlude 16

I sorry I cannot do another chapter right now I am so tired and just plain fatigued…the last day of school was today and now I am just in a kind of shocked state because I will never return to that school ever ever… yeah sorry guys I just really need to chill, so here is the interlude at least

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Why?

Why do I try so hard?

I could have saved myself.

I could have run.

From my heart.

But yet I did not.

I stayed.

I fought.

I still fight now.

Maybe it's love.

Maybe it's loneliness that drives me.

Fate?

The universe?

What?

I wish I could find it.

The answer.

To why I am this way.

But I don't think.

I ever will.

Perhaps.

It's better that way.

But I'll still be curious.

Even if she shows me a way.

To know.

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this one was cryptic, too. _I_ don't even get the last couple lines. oh well.


	32. A Rose in Bloom

WAHOOOO!!!!! I'VE UPDATED AT LAST!!!! I'm sosososososososooooooo sorry to all of my fans but as you know, my parents don't know I have a fanfic account. They were beginning to suspect, so I needed to lay low for a while. I'll be able to update as quick as I used to when I get my own computer for school, which won't be until late August. But until then, enjoy!!!

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Room 1313 wasn't at all like the rest of the hospital. On the contrary, it was very much like something out of a complicated science fiction TV show. The only real similarity was that the room was glittering white. Everything else was completely unrecognizable. A wallpaper of glass cabinets covered each side, and delicate silver instruments stood lightly on faux-porcelain countertops. The whole scenario was so clean and sterilized that Martha would have been afraid to touch anything, had it not been for Faye and Mickey bustling around the place like it was their mother's kitchen.

"Get that - "

"Watch, I - "

"Be careful, I think - "

"Don't let it - "

The pair looked so comfortable in the awkward environment that Martha couldn't help but ask, "Do you two have any idea what you're doing?"

"No," they answered hurriedly, without looking up from whatever they were up to.

Martha sighed and leaned tiredly on the gurney they had used to transport Rose, blowing a strand of hair from her face.

The Doctor chuckled and stepped over the threshold. "What d'you know, you were right, Mickey the Idiot! So this really is a nanorobotics lab?"

"Yeah, probably. I mean, I dunno what else it's supposed to be." Mickey nodded, peering closely at a shiny metal cylinder. "I think we've got something."

"What?"

Mickey beckoned with his finger, and the Doctor and Martha hurriedly went to see what he was looking at.

"OK…so…what is it?" asked Martha expectantly.

"They're nanobots! Aw, look at 'em, all suspended in their itty-bitty little jar of preservative fluid… Ain't they cute?" said the Doctor gleefully, tapping the glass curiously. "They're exactly what we need, in fact!"

"Okaaaaaay… So how do we use 'em?"

"That…I'm not sure of," he confessed. "I don't really have much experience with nanobots, to be honest."

"What?" said Martha in surprise, looking aghast. "So what are we going to do, force-feed them to her and see what happens?"

"Well…"

"Oh, you're kidding me."

"I've found something!" Mickey shouted from across the room, holding an extremely thick binder as high as he could manage.

The Doctor once again whipped out his trusty glasses and slid them onto his nose, grabbing the binder and smacking it down onto a nearby counter. "What do we have here?" he muttered, flipping absently through it. "Aha!"

"What is it?" asked Martha and Mickey simultaneously, then laughed hesitantly.

"This paper…gosh, that's _clever_!"

"_What_?"

"It's alien," he said simply, peering even closer at a page. "There's something underneath."

Martha sighed exasperatedly. "_What_ underneath? What are you on about now?"

The Doctor peeled off his glasses and shut the book. "Doesn't matter. It's nothing."

"Okaaaaay," Mickey said, staring oddly at the Doctor like he was afraid for his sanity.

"Now then…let's get to it."

"To what?" asked Faye, coming over to the others.

"We need a syringe," he said, picking up the cylinder. "Mickey, prop her up, would you?" Mickey hurried to the gurney and turned a lever to make it into a sort of lawn chair type thing.

Faye scurried to a drawer and flung it open, searching furiously. After a few seconds, she emerged, a long, thin packet in hand. "Got it, Doctor."

"Give it here," he said, holding out his hand.

She did so, and he ripped it open. Carefully, he inserted the needle into the top of the cylinder, measuring the amount with precision. After doing so, he carried over to the gurney where Rose lay. A gasp shot through the quiet room as he grasped her arm gently and softly pushed the needle into her vein.

"It's OK, Rose," he whispered, stroking her hair lovingly. "You'll be all right now."

"What's gonna happen?" Martha hissed to Faye.

"I'm not sure, really," she answered quietly. "It should get rid of the virus. I dunno how, though."

"How long should it - "

She was cut off by a rasping cry that came from Rose's open mouth. Everyone jumped and stared at her in worry, watching as the nanobots did their work. With a low hiss, steam emitted from every inch of her body. Her hair seemed to inflate as its color and body came back; every pore on her skin was revitalized without a trace of wrinkles or cracks. The lights in her eyes grew brighter with each passing moment, and there, blinking in confusion, was the young and beautiful Miss Rose Tyler.

"I don't believe it!" Mickey exploded in tears, practically leaping on top of her. "Oh my God, Rose, you're all right!" He hugged the dazed girl for a few moments, then let go and beamed like a child on Christmas Day.

Martha just stared in amazement at the person that had just appeared. "Cor, she's lovely," was all she could manage to say. Next to her, Faye smiled happily at the reunion.

The Doctor's grin topped all of theirs, however. His face broke into the purest smile that any of them had ever seen, and without any hesitation, he grabbed her chin between two fingers, turned her face toward him, and kissed her full on the mouth.

A storm of applause from the three onlookers broke out. Even in her shock she could tell whose lips were upon hers, and hooked a trembling hand around the back of his neck. They stayed like that for a few seconds and then broke, beaming tearfully at each other. Breaking the joyous silence, a wet gasp arose from Rose's throat, and she few back onto the gurney coughing horribly.

Mickey looked urgently at the Doctor, alarmed, but he said reassuringly, "Don't worry. It's her body, it's rebuilding itself. She'll be okay."

Not entirely convinced, he gave the other a distrustful look, then went to watching Rose in fear.

"D-doctor…" gasped Rose, clutching her chest. "I…I'm so sorry…"

"Shh," he shushed, squeezing her hand. "It's okay. I'm here."

"N-no," she protested, shaking her head. "They…they tried to make me…they tried…but I didn't let them…didn't…"

The Doctor frowned. "Who, Rose? Who was it? What did they make you do?"

"Oh, Doctor…I'm so sorry. They…they wanted you…they wanted me to tell them…tell them about you. But…I didn't. I wouldn't let them get you, so I…" A tear trickled down her cheek as she looked at him. "They ate at me, Doctor. They ate my mind. But I wouldn't let them have your thoughts. I wouldn't…so they destroyed me. Every inch…"

"Who was it? Who is trying to get to me, Rose? Do you know?"

"I'm so sorry, Doctor. They're coming."

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So sorry about the cliffy, folks. Bubblez-rocks-your-socks, you have the right to use the spanner.

Oh and by the way, I don't know anything about nanobots, so I just made it up. If you do know something, feel free to tell me. I did my best, though.


	33. Interlude 17

Hi again. This is the best I can come up with for now, since I have kind of writers block and the parents are watching my every move, practically. So enjoy, if that;s possible…

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Yep.

Predictable.

I should have learned.

Long ago.

History always repeats itself.

Always.

I'm sad.

I'm happy again.

And what happens?

My happiness is stolen.

By something more powerful.

Than Love

Than Fate.

Than Willpower.

What is it now?

What thrusts its gleeful face.

In front of me.

This time?

What vindictive mind.

Would want to put me through this

Misery?

Anger?

Heart wrenching pressure?

Is it a test?

Something challenging my character?

I would have thought.

That my character.

Would have been established.

Long.

Long.

Ago.

Oh, well.

If this is truly a circle.

Which it is.

Of course.

By the look of things.

My happiness will certainly return.

Someday.


	34. The Last of the Children of Lalae

JUMP FOR JOY, ALL MY FANS, HERE IS THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!!! --world is knocked off its axis from jumping people-- yeah LOLZ I don't have that many fans (yet) please savor this chapter, but never fear, SUPERMAN IS HERE!!!

Me: "Ahem go away Superman"

Superman: "Awwww, I had the cape on and everything…"

BTW I meant to say "never fear, another chappy is on the way, but that came out instead….yeah….don't ask!! I have a bad home life!!! --sob-- JKJKJKJKJKJK

Ignore my spazziness and read. NOW. Or I'll sic Superman on you (rawr:3)

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The Doctor frowned even harder, if that were possible, and a fearful look came into his eyes. "Who is it, Rose? Who is coming?"

Rose sighed shakily and smiled in place of sobbing. "I don't know, Doctor. I'm sorry. They took my mind in the hopes of getting you. I don't know who it is. All I know is their voice." She closed her eyes in bitter reminiscence. "This terrible voice… I cut myself one day," she began. "Not on purpose," she added hastily, seeing the Doctor's eyes harden fiercely. "On a sharp point on a fence. I slapped a Band-Aid on it, nothing special, but later that day I felt…odd. I remember going to bed, and right before I fell asleep, this voice started talking to me in my mind, this deep, ringing, powerful chorus of voices."

"And what did the voice say?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Something like "I seek the One Without Age, Without Time, Without Mercy. The God of Many Faces. The Prince of Destiny. Lots of impressive names, yada yada yada. Some call him the Oncoming Storm, some call him the Bringer of Doom, blah blah blah… You know of whom I speak?" She grinned tearfully again, and clasped his hand. "And I said yes, Doctor. I stupidly said "Yes." And that's all I remember. The next thing I knew, you were here."

The Prince of Destiny himself stared into space, and the others around could almost hear the gears of his incredible mind spinning as fast as they could. "Mind control…. no, not control…. the Fever… and they wanted me? Trying to…. impossible…" He continued with his stream of irrelevant words, pacing as he did so. Never before had he been so determined to defeat an adversary. He had almost lost Rose, just as he'd miraculously found her again. There was no way, absolutely _no way_ he'd let the one behind it escape unscathed when he hadn't.

"Rose!" he exclaimed suddenly. "When they spoke to you, can you remember at all if they actually _appeared_, physically."

"I don't think they did. I mean, I was nearly asleep. I would've heard something."

"Yes, unless they're some sort of spiritual being."

"What, like a ghost?" asked Mickey, not even bothering to conceal the fear in his voice.

"Don't be stupid, ghosts can't administer a disease," he retorted cruelly.

"_ACTUALLY, DOCTOR, I THINK YOU'LL FIND THAT THEY CAN."_

Everyone jumped as a booming, massive voice rang clear from Rose's open mouth. Her eyes misted over and drifted shut, then snapped open again, this time emanating a black glow from all-black orbs, not a speck of white left.

"_HELLO, DOCTOR. WE MEET AT LAST. YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH TROUBLE I'VE GONE TO MEET YOU."_

The fury in his face was terrifying as he shouted, "_Who are you? What are you doing to her? What do you want? What to you fricking _WANT_ with me?"_

"_WANT? WHAT DO I WANT, DID YOU SAY? WHAT DO I WANT??? I WANT MY BEST FRIEND BACK. I WANT MY MOTHER AND MY FATHER BACK. I WANT MY TWIN SISTER BACK. I WANT YOU TO BRING THEM BACK HERE, RIGHT NOW! YOU TOOK THEM, AND YOU MUST GIVE THEM BACK! WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE HAVE YOU PUT THEM? GIVE THEM BACK TO ME!!!" _The terrible voice raged furiously, but threads of sorrow could be heard in the din.

Frowning, his voice became a little softer when he spoke again. "Who…are you?"

"_I? I AM THE LAST OF MY KIND, AS YOU ARE OF YOURS. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR BOTH OF THESE SITUATIONS, YOU MUST REALIZE. I HAVE WANDERED FOR AN AGE, _MANY AGES_, ALONE. UTTERLY ALONE!!! CAN YOU, DOCTOR, CAN YOU _POSSIBLY_ EVEN FATHOM WHAT THAT WAS LIKE???"_

"I think I might," he whispered mournfully.

"_I DON'T THINK SO! YOU HAD _HER_!!!"_ Rose's finger pointed stiffly at her own chest, tears igniting in her transformed eyes. _"YOU _STILL_ HAVE HER!!!_ _YOUR OCEAN OF SELF-PITY IS DEEP, TIME LORD, BUT YOU HAVE NEVER REALLY BEEN ALONE! DO YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU ARE THE LONLIEST BEING? HA! I HAVE FELT PAIN AND EMPTINESS IN GREATER MEASURES THAN YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE!!!"_

"I'm sorry, I'm so - "

"_DO YOU SAY THAT TO EVERYONE??? I HAVE WATCHED YOU SINCE YOU ARRIVED ON THIS EARTH, AND I AGREE WITH THE DARK ONE; THAT PHRASE IS A LITTLE CLICHÉ NOW, ISN'T IT?"_

"But it's true!" he cried, frustrated! "I'm sorry for what you've been through! All I ask is the reason that I am responsible for your suffering! What did I do to you that you should be so angry with me?""

"_YOU - AND THE REST OF YOUR KIND. THE FEVER, THE FEVER WAS KILLING US! IT KILLED MY FAMILY, MY FRIENDS, MY ENEMIES, MY ALLIES! IT SLAUGHTERED THE INNOCENT AND THE DESERVING WITHOUT DISTINGUISHING BETWEEN THE TWO, IT MURDERED THE WEAK AND THE POWERFUL WITHOUT MERCY. EVERYTHING, BEAUTIFUL AND FOUL, EVIL AND PURE, DIED AT ITS HAND. __**EVERYTHING DIED!!! **__ AND YOU, YOU COULD HAVE STOPPED IT! YOU HAD THE POWER, YOU WERE ON THE COUNCIL OF THIRTY!!! YOU COULD HAVE GIVEN US THE MEANS TO SURVIVE!!! WHY? WHY DID YOU LET US DIE? HOW COULD YOU HAVE HAD SO LITTLE MERCY? WE WERE A PEACEFUL PEOPLE, WE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO HARM YOU!!! SO WHY???" _Tears that were not her own ran unchecked down her cheeks, soaking the papery gown she wore.

"Who are you?"

"_I AM THE LAST OF THE REKKA, THE SOLE REMAINING MEMBER OF THE CHILDREN OF LALAE, AND I, TIME LORD, CHALLENGE YOU, IN PAYMENT OF YOUR DEBT!"_

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I feel so bad now…..


	35. Interlude 18

Responsibility.

Mine.

Always mine.

Always me.

The one to blame.

They can hate me.

All they want.

I deserve it.

Everyone.

Everyone seems.

To find.

Fault.

Imperfection.

Responsibility, yes.

It never changes.

Why can't.

I control my power?

The mist.

Surrounding me.

Destroying.

Eating.

Meddling

Killing.

I don't mean.

To cause so much pain, yet.

I do.

Wherever.

I go.

Someone.

Ends.

Up.

Hurting.


	36. Youth's Enemy

Well well well… I seem to have gone emo or something. My chappies are just getting depressing-er and depressing-er, aren't they? Whatever. I will always be happy at heart.

By the way, if I haven't already mentioned this, in my last chappy I totally made up the Council of Thirty thing. I have never seen the old series, nor am I planning to, and so I have no clue about Time Lord society and gov't and stuff, so I make it up. Yay!

Disclaimer: Dude. If I owned Doctor Who, do you think I would be writing a crap Fanfic on it right now? Seriously. You'd have to be retarded. And then some.

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-

"Er…Doctor?" hissed Martha into his ear. "What do we do?"

Tugging on his earlobe nervously, he replied, "We, er...run."

"Run," repeated Faye blandly. She, not really knowing the Doctor's character, couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Um…yeah," he answered, nodding in her direction. "Come on!" In the blink of an eye, he had bolted through the open door of the lab, shouting for someone to shut the door as they exited hurriedly. "Out, out! Everybody out! Trap it inside!" The four obeyed his command in wild terror, nearly knocking each other over in their hurry to escape. A mournful cry echoed as they slammed the door shut, not stopping in time to look back.

As soon as they reached the lobby, everyone collapsed onto the chairs in the cafeteria, trying to recollect their thoughts after the sudden encounter with an alien race.

"What," asked Faye in a steely voice, "was that?"

"Yeah," agreed Mickey, folding his arms and speaking in a deadly whisper. "I think we'd all like to know that, Doctor." The protective concern in his voice couldn't have been more obvious; Martha shuffled a bit and cast her glance downward.

"Just let me think for a minute!" he snapped, leaning on the back of a nearby office chair. He screwed up his face so tightly that he looked as though in great pain and exhaled deeply. "_Dammit!_"

No one spoke for a long while, they just watched the Doctor in his internal agony. The wall clock could be heard ticking away the seconds in the silence; it seemed as though it was counting down to something ominous. Every now and then the Doctor would open his eyes and mutter something, then squeeze them together again, apparently thinking hard.

Finally, someone had the courage to ask, "Doctor? Are you OK?"

"Oh, sure," he answered immediately, rising from his defeated posture. "Yeah, fine."

"Doctor," said Martha, giving him an I-know-you're-lying-just-to-make-us-less-worried-and-I'm-not-buying-it look.

Looking uncomfortable, he threaded his fingers above his head and stretched, groaning as the bones cracked and the muscles were pulled taut. "It's just… it's just a child," he explained unhelpfully.

"Okay, lose the Doc-speak for a mo' and just give us the facts," said Mickey in exasperation.

The Doctor gave a little laugh and smiled. "Okay, okay. Well, the being that's inhabiting, possessing, _whatever_ Rose is called a Child of Lalae, as it said. Which is completely accurate: that's all it is, a child. It's the maturity of a kid with the power of a Time Lord that's absorbed the vortex."

"That's a lot, I'm guessing," said Martha sarcastically.

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"Great."

"Very. Anyway, they're offspring of a kind of… _god_, if you will, a raw power in the shape of a giant, iridescent cloud that was worshiped on many planets. These planets called it Lalae, and revered it as a diving ruler. One day, the phenomenon just burst, ruptured into tiny pieces that scattered and collected onto a solitary moon. They took nearly-human form, in the form of a little girl or boy, though they have no gender. Their species is normally a very peaceful one, not getting involved with others unless they have to."

"Is this going somewhere?" asked a very impatient Faye.

The Doctor, shocked that someone had actually dared to interrupt him, turned to stare at her in disbelief. "Well, yeah."

"Okay," she stated, picking a cuticle. "Just checking."

Taking a few more seconds to look at Faye in astonishment, he continued with his monologue. "Over the eons, the Children evolved into a more human, less all-mighty being form, which turned out to be worse for them."

"Why's that?" inquired Mickey.

"When the Fever broke out, they had enough of a physical form that they were infected. And since for all the time they existed, all they had done was lounge about and do nothing (because what else were they supposed to do? They were practically gods!), they had absolutely no way of defending themselves. It slaughtered them by the thousands, just as it did in a myriad of other races."

"But you had the cure-"

"-which we could _not _distribute interplanatarily under _any_ circumstances! We had our own civilization to worry about, _out own_ people who were dying! If there had been any way for us to save everyone that contracted the disease, don't you think we would have done it?" The glare in his eyes was particularly strong as he defended his home.

"I – of course, I – sorry," Martha finished lamely, not looking at him.

"It's OK, don't worry about it," he said apologetically, realizing he was a bit harsh.

"So this… _thing_ inside Rose is a half-spiritual being intent on getting revenge on you, the one on whom it blames the death of its entire species?" Faye summed up.

"Er… yep," he agreed awkwardly.

"This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it," she sighed, and everyone around nodded in agreement.

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Okay okay, its been a long time since ive done one of these:

**You:** Damn, she finally updated! I think -

**Me:** -you'll compliment me on my prestigious skill as a writer and the dedication I

have to my schoolwork, because I spent time on that instead of Fanfics?

**You:** - I'll beat her up!

**Me:** AHHHHHH!!!!!!!

**You:** WILL YOU NEVER LEARN, YOU IGNORAMUS?????

**Me:** Don't use fancy insults on me!!!

**You:** Ha! Try me! – produces random spatula and proceeds to beat with it –

Ah, good times….. gooood times…… ----


	37. Interlude 19

Since I am having a burst of inspiration, I have promised myself to update at least once everyday. To all you die-hard fans (I know at least two, tell me if you are one ), I know you wil be happy about this, especially since I disappeared for like two months. So bear with me, and I will do my best to satisfy your….erm…. longing? Ew that sounds weird…

Superman: -inching onto screen, eyebrow raised - What was that?

Me: Sor-_ry_! Excuse me if I have an undiscovered speech disorder.

Superman: - inching back off screen, eyebrow still raised - Whatever.

Me: - brandishing fist - Superpowers aren't everything, mister!!! Do you hear me!?!?!?!?

Yes, I am insane. – smile –

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How.

Can I bear to fight?

What.

Am I supposed to do?

I told myself.

Yes, I said that I.

Have no mercy left.

So what.

Is this ache?

Compassion.

Was supposed to be.

Beyond me.

So why.

So I feel so guilty?

The guilt.

Weighs down.

Because.

I know.

That I am to blame.

Once again.

I've been branded.

A murderer.

And this time.

I know it's true.

Death.

Has been called my shadow.

Before, but.

Never.

Have they been.

Absolutely right.

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There you are, another interlude. I bet you're jumping for joy right now, aren't you? Yep. Thought so.


	38. Faye Unmasked

Oh I am good, arent i? another update! Ha! I'm on a roll lately! Enjoy it while it lasts, folks, cuz knowing me I will drift away from you all in a week or so. I'll try really hard not to, though, cuz people hav given me really good criticism (you know who you are!) and I feel inspired. That's enough rambling for one A/N, I think.

…

…

…

Did I just say that?

Disclaimer: Owning Doctor Who is the one dream of mine that will never come true.

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"Well." Rolling up her sleeves, Faye immediately marched out of the room, a purposeful look on her face. A couple minutes later, she returned with a black, rolled-up leather case, about the length and width of a laptop computer. Fumbling slightly on the triple knot that bound it shut, she opened the holder to reveal a duo of tiny pistols. They were three inches long and pure obsidian colored, with mother-of-pearl adornment on the handles. A matching black leather holster, complete with shimmering glass seed beads, and about twenty shots finished the set.

"And what would those be?" the Doctor asked sternly, glaring at the owner suspiciously.

"They're my pride and joy, that's what. A homicidally insane fellow once forced his way in and tried to kill his wife, who was being hospitalized at the time. I happened to be on the night shift, and the wife was in my duty room. Took him out with my lunch tin." She smiled eerily at the memory. "These dropped out of the inside of his coat as he fell, and the other night nurses thought it fitting that I keep them. We've never told a soul, except 'til now."

"What did you do with the body?" asked Mickey a little too eagerly.

Faye laughed and began loading one of the guns. "Oh, it didn't kill him. Knocked him cold for quite a while, I'm sure, but the blow was far from deadly. We threw him into the rubbish bin out back." An almost bloodthirsty spark was visible in her eye, something they hadn't seen before. Whatever Faye's past, it was obvious that she had a vengeful, violent core.

"My point being, why do you have them out?" The Doctor's face was dangerously shaded, a sign that he hated the sight of the weapons almost as much as he hated what they were capable of.

She glanced up from her work and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that obvious?"

The Doctor started toward her with an angry expression. "Don't you dare tell me you plan on using them on that creature upstairs, Faye Middleton, don't you _dare_."

Placing the full-up gun to her left, she picked up the next one and started on that. "Well, of course. What else?"

To her shock, a bony hand slammed down upon the black case, halting her progress. "Oh, no. There are three _very_ good reasons why we will not be taking that course of action. One, that is Rose's body. If all of her is not fully intact by the time we're through with this, I will be _very_ unhappy. Two, our enemy is a child, as I said. Shooting it would be the most inhumane thing we could do. Of course," he added, almost as an after thought, "from what I've seen of humans, most of what they do is inhumane. Very hypocritical species, aren't you?"

Her thin, strong fingers wrapped around his wrist and pried it off, not bothering to look at his furious and bewildered face. Everyone could see that there was something very wrong with Faye, but no one could possibly fathom what it was that was making her act this way. With a snap, she finished loading the pistols and took one in each hand. They looked very cozy there, quite at home tucked into those slender fingers.

"Faye, I am telling you right now to stop. You can't do this."

She smirked and finally turned to face him, her sharp nose mere centimeters from his freckled one. "And I am telling _you_, Doctor, that I will do what I like. This is about protection, self-defense against alien forces. I will not let myself be killed by a twenty-two year old dropout who is possessed by a child with supernatural powers. Not going to happen. So _you_," she threatened, emphasizing the word by poking the guns menacingly into his chest, "had better get the _hell_ out of my way." The fiery redhead shoved the Doctor back with the points of the revolvers, causing him to crash head-over-heels into the long table behind.

Mickey and Martha could do nothing but gape in astonishment at this strange new development in Faye's personality. Neither could figure out what had ever come across her mind to make her physically bring out a gun and prepare it for killing. Hadn't she just confessed her nearly-love for the Doctor only a short while ago? Didn't she realize that she was planning to kill his one love?

"Faye, stop!" cried Martha, blocking the exit with her arms. "Whatever you're planning on doing, just stop, okay? Please, Faye!"

The gun was at her face in a matter of nanoseconds, and Martha felt herself freezing up at the sight of the gun barrel laughing at her cruelly. The outstretched hands slowly lifted so they were above her head meekly. Mickey made a move to protect her, but the Doctor, who had recovered from his tumble, held onto the sleeve of his leather jacket firmly. "It wouldn't help," he murmured, and Mickey's body relaxed slightly in helplessness.

"You know what?" asked Faye, staring at her target with eyes that could freeze lava. "No. I won't stop. You don't know me. You don't know _anything_ about me. Just because you're some alien chump and his pesky little gang doesn't give you authority over me, now does it? I will go up there and I will blow her pretty blonde head off, because I know what will happen if I don't."

"What will happen, Faye?" asked the Doctor solemnly.

She turned to face the speaker, but did not lower the weapon. For the first time since her mood swing, pain was etched into the lines of her face. "We'll die," she whispered, her bottom lip quivering. "We'll all die. I know, Doctor. Mercy is worthless. It doesn't mean a damn thing. You say you have mercy? Maybe you do." She laughed unnaturally to nobody in particular. "Will that save you, Doctor? Will your pity and your compassion save you in the end?"

"No," he said sincerely. "No, it won't."

Another uncanny giggle escaped her throat. "That just proves my point! So tell me, O Almighty Saint, what is the point? If your mercy will not save you, why do you give it?"

"It's not about saving yourself. It's about saving someone else." He smiled genuinely, and suddenly his friends felt warm inside from his radiance. "Because it's rescuing that other person that gives you a reason for living."

"You're wrong. It's not like that at all." She fought to keep the tears from spilling, but one drop betrayed her and ran swiftly down her face.

"No, Faye - " he began, but stopped suddenly. His body froze like an ice sculpture, and Martha & Mickey stared in alarm. He remained still for a few seconds; then a vein in his forehead twitched, and a rasping cough rose from his throat. A few seconds later, a violent scarlet liquid inched its way over his bottom lip, quivering there for a moment, then falling delicately onto the floor between his feet.

"Doctor?" gasped Martha in terror. "What - ?"

The roughest, most agonizing screams she had ever heard bounced madly between the walls of the lounge. His whole face contorted as he collapsed like a stone to the floor, clutching his chest in torture.

"Doctor!" screamed Martha. Desperately, she tried to get to him, but the point of the gun inched closer to her nose, and she immediately halted. "What's wrong? What's wrong with him???" She knew, yet she voiced the question aloud anyway.

His clenched fists snapped open, revealing for all to see the gashes carved into his palms, flaming red and throbbing. All gazed in horror as swarms of tiny black dots bubbled up from beneath the skin, sealing the cuts with tar-like scabs.

"It's the Fever," whispered Mickey in revulsion. "The Fever has Taken the Doctor."

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Woah long chappy!!! Who-ray!!! It's a crap ending/cliffy, I know. I planed to end it sooner, but I wanted to get the Fever bit in there so it turned out being longer than I expected. Mickey line is the latest thins in crap, I know, so don't flame me please, I am perfectly aware of my incompetence. Weird, when I want to do a cliffy, I fail miserably, but when I DON'T, I end up doing so and everyone gets all mad at me. I'm sorry…. (depressed)

I took your advice sincerely to heart, Peyton Halliwell. Did you notice? I did A LOT more describing and A LOT less dialogue. What did you think, y'all? (no I am not from the south, God no) Was it good? I haven't decided whether I'll explain what the FRICK is goin' on with Faye, so help me out a bit. Would you like to know, or would it make the story too complicated/not fit it anywhere? (I am addressing everyone here, not just Peyton) If you want it in, give me a little help on where/how to say it, please. This element was not planned (just like the rest of the story, I'm not like JKR and had it all in my head before I started, it was all pretty spontaneous), so I'm at a bit of a loss.

Thanks so much to all my readers (especially my REVIEWers, hem hem) and especially to –FaCeTeD-DiAmOnD-, because she pwns life. If you like Harry Potter, go read her stuff, especially Rosy Hues. It is like sooooooo good! It is Dramione, btw, but even if you don't like that pairing, you can always pretend Draco is Ron or Hermione is…. Pansy. Or something.

R&R. Or else. Or else I shall (really) sic Superman on you.

**Superman: **RAWRS!!!


	39. Interlude 20

I just realized something. The story has gone beyond the title actually making sense. I mean, love is just like a tiny little bit of the plot now. Rats. Now I feel stupid. Sorry guys, I let you down.

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Mind

My mind.

Give it back.

Give me back.

My sanity.

Eating, it's.

Gnawing at my brain.

Can't think.

Control of my body.

Is no longer.

Mine.

Help.

Please, someone.

Help me.

I don't know.

What I'm doing.

Anymore.

Please, someone.

Stop me.

From falling completely.

I always say.

I don't need.

Anyone's.

Help.

That I'm okay.

Being.

Alone.

But, please.

Someone see.

That I'm a liar.

And, please.

Anybody, please.

Save me.

Because I can't.

Do it.

Alone.

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Oh, and don't think I haven't noticed that some of you have been skipping the interludes. I get it, don't worry. It hurts a little, but really, there isn't much to read in them. So if you skip one, you still have to send me a review for the chapter with the interlude! As a way of making up for it! Please, please do this. I really need your support, guys.


	40. Out of Control

I actually got 8 hours of sleep last night. Isn't that just fab? I think so, anyway, considering the fact that now I've rediscovered my Fanfic I've been getting around 5 ½ - 6 hours on average. Be happy for me, at least! Yeah! Feel the happiness!!!

We had a retreat in my school a few days ago (it's Catholic all-girls) and it was so fun! (surprising, right?) No really! Not that you care, of course. But anyway, we had this thing where we all (like 50 of us) were in this 1 room and we were all talking about pressure and how perverted guys are, and all these girls that had had a baby when they were sophomores (for you British folk, I'm not sure how that translates in to your school system). Sounds weird, but it was cool. And at the end, one of the mediators, named Kim, made us all stand in a circle and we screamed "I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!!! –ROAR--!!!!!!!!!" It sounds really weird to you guys, I know, but it was so funny that I had to put it in here. Yep.

**READ THIS IT IS IMPORTANT!!!** To all of you who think that Faye has just gone completely insane and psycho randomly, IT IS NOT TRUE. Another part of her personality has just some through. Remember, we really didn't know much about her except she was impatient and a little haughty. So she is NOT crazy, okay? I just wanted to make that clear, and there were some people who thought otherwise, so I got nervous and thought that maybe other people thought that too. Sorry.

Now ignore me and read my writing.

Disclaimer: Americans can't own Doctor Who. It's probably against the law or something.

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Martha's body was ice. Her joints and muscles refused to obey her; every inch screamed at her to move, but she could not. She could see herself frozen, staring at the screaming Doctor in front of her. _This can not be happening_, she told herself blandly. She didn't know why she wouldn't accept it; worse things had happened to him before. But still, she did not move. The sight of the Doctor in so much pain, though she had witnessed it previously, frightened her numb.

"Martha!" cried a voice, "Martha, snap out of it!"

Slowly, at the speed of dripping molasses, she drifted back down to her body again.

"Get her, Martha! She's headed for Rose!" Mickey shouted over the Doctor's shrieks.

Whipping her head around, she saw to her shock that Faye was indeed absent from the place where she had stood a few moments ago. Furious, Martha flew after her at a speed that would have made her high school P.E. teacher proud.

Back in the lobby, a frantic Mickey tried to control the tortured Doctor. "Okay Doctor, just get up and follow me. We're gonna get you right again, all right?" he tried lamely.

The Doctor's head snapped up, glazed eyes staring unseeingly at his friend. His chin and suit front was drenched in scarlet, and his lip was permanently curled into a hideous snarl. When his blackened palms tightened into threatening fists, Mickey started to panic slightly.

"Come on, now…" he said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't _touch_ me!" the Doctor hissed, shooting out his fist and catching the unprepared Mickey full in the stomach. Stumbling backward, he doubled over with the wind completely knocked out of him.

"What was that for?" he cried hoarsely.

His adversary's face morphed entirely, changing from enraged to mournful in a second, and all at once he began to cry. Wails, horrible, anguished wails emitted from the pathetic figure, so great and heaving that one who witnessed it could feel tugging at their heartstrings. Face in his hands, his heart poured out, salty and warm, onto his cheeks. And so Mickey stood there, dumbfounded, at the bawling Time Lord.

Hesitant at what to do, Mickey approached cautiously and crouched down to the Doctor's height, careful not to be in punching range this time. "What's wrong?"

"L…" he began, rocking back and forth, "lonely… so lonely! It's all so alone! Nothing, there's…nothing! Absolutely nothing! Do you know?" he asked urgently, looking up from the cradle of his hands. "Do you know what I know? Do you?"

"N-no, I don't think - "

"Lucky!" he sobbed. "Lucky lucky lucky….so very lucky not to know. Everything dying, everything…burns! Nothing left, nothing nothing nothing… and I'm still alone! Will you stay? Will you? In the end, when everything is fire and ice and burning burning burning?"

"Yeah, yeah I will! Don't you worry, Doctor, I will!" reassured Mickey, not certain to what he was agreeing.

The Doctor sighed in apparent relief and crumpled to the floor, weeping quietly to himself. "Alone…all alone… fire…" he murmured as he cried, curling up into a tiny ball.

At an absolute loss, Mickey stood upright and backed away slowly, making sure the weak creature on the ground didn't do anything unexpected. When nothing happened, he turned and made way for the door. "You just stay right there, okay Doctor? I'm gonna be right back."

Meanwhile, Martha was having a difficult time. Although adequately physically fit, she was not accustomed to this much running in one day, and her legs were beginning to falter. She had taken the stairs in the hopes of getting there faster that her prey, who had chosen the lift, but was starting to question her own judgment by the time she reached the seventh floor. "Why does it always have to be far away?" she muttered raggedly, groping for the banister as she turned a corner. "Why couldn't it be on the ground floor this time?"

Despite her doubts, she ended up making it to the thirteenth floor without mishap, and, in a bizarre stroke of luck, managed to make it before Faye.

"Woah," she panted as she opened the door strode into the hall of the thirteenth floor, leaning on her knees to rest. "What a run!"

"Did you enjoy it?" asked a voice darkly. "Because after today, you won't be running anywhere."

Martha froze like a board and straightened up, only to see a curvaceous, redheaded figure step from behind the door and slam it shut, two black revolvers pointed directly at her chest.

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Short chappy, I know. I'm sorry. I was going to combine this chappy and the next, but decided it would take too much time and I really wanted to update. So here you go, and I'm sorry about my rant at the beginning.


	41. Interlude 21

An interlude. What else is there to say?

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I once said.

That I would.

Never.

Give my emotions up.

For.

Anything.

I lied.

Tearing.

They're ripping out.

My mind.

It hurts.

So much.

To feel.

Right now.

I would give anything.

To be.

Numb.

Lonely, I feel.

Lonelier than I ever have.

Why?

It stings.

So much.

How do I stop.

Feeling?

I don't want to hurt.

Anymore.

I don't want to be alone.

Anymore.

I don't want to love.

Anymore.

So why.

Can I still feel.

The pain?

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Does anyone here follow Avatar: The Last Airbender? Do you Brits even have it? Anyway, if you know what I am talking about, OMG ZUKO IS AN EMOBOI!!! SQUEE!!! Did anyone see Friday's episode? When he goes "I'm angry all the time and I don't know why!" That was stolen directly from Potter Puppet Pals, no joke (if you don't know what that is, and like HP, go to  RIGHT NOW and watch Wizard Angst. Please, do it. It is hilarious.). Yep, and that is my ramble for today.


	42. Dead End

Hey!!! I am alive!!! I've been through this already with Do You Want to Play, but I'll go over it again. I got caught up with school, I forgot about you guys, blah blah blah I'm sorry. Here I am at last, and hopefully I will finish this fic by the new year. Yeah.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any affiliated characters, items, and places. Although I can think of a few that I would like to…

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"Doctor?!?" cried Mickey, barreling into the room, syringe in hand. "I got it! Where are you?" Puzzled, he scanned the room and could find no trace of the Doctor. "Oh, great. Don't tell me he's scarpered!" Turning to leave and search the building, he heard a slight whimpering sound just as he had stepped across the threshold. "Doctor?" There it was again! "Are you in here somewhere?"

"Stay back!" cried a voice, although it didn't bear much resemblance to the Time Lord's.

Puzzled, Mickey inquired again. "Doctor? Is that you? Where are you?" He took a tentative step into the room.

"Don't! Stay away!" The voice was desperate and quavering, and it made something in Mickey's heart twinge to hear it.

Looking down, he saw the Doctor huddled underneath the conference table. His arms and legs were wrapped tightly around one leg of the table, and his face was pressed up against it. Although he could not see his face, Mickey knew that he was crying quietly, stifling the noise against the faux wood. The child Mickey saw there was not the Doctor, not really. It was someone else altogether, someone buried deep inside of him. But who was it?

Bending down, he reached out to touch the crippled soul. "Doctor? It's alright now. I've got the drug."

"Will it hurt?" he asked in a whimper, not looking at him.

"No, no it won't. In fact, you'll feel even better after you take it!"

"I will?" he asked hopefully, turning his shiny, wet face toward Mickey. "Will I really? Will I still be lonely?"

Mickey did not want to lie, but he didn't want to tell the truth, either. The truth might hurt him even more than the lie. He didn't know if he would still be lonely. Mickey hadn't even realized that he was lonely in the first place! The person currently inhabiting the Doctor was obviously just a child, and Mickey had never been very good with kids.

"Er," he began lamely, "er, no. You won't be lonely. Know why? 'Cos I'm gonna be with you. And so is Rose, and Martha, and maybe even Faye if we ever figure her out. You'll never be alone ever again, 'cos you've got us. We'll all be together, and you'll never say 'I'm lonely' again, because you won't be. Okay?"

There was a silence after his words, but not after too long the child's face broke into a sad grin. "Really?"

"Really. Now c'mon, give me your arm."

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"Can't we talk this over, Faye?" Martha was petrified, even more so than before. This time, she was not only at double gunpoint, but she was also totally alone. No Doctor, no Mickey. This was just her and Faye.

"I don't see why not," replied Faye sarcastically. "Ok, here goes. I want to kill her, you don't. I have the guns, you don't. End of discussion." She sighed without emotion and nodded her head. "Get back on that wall."

"Faye - "

"I said get _back_!" Her calm faltered for a moment, and Martha could see the crazed fire underneath.

"Faye, at least tell me what's wrong! Why do you have to kill her? What do you know?" Desperate, she tried the guilt method. "Look, I know we all have secrets, and I know it's hard to open up. But sooner or later, you have to accept the fact that the past can't change! Only the future can be changed, and in that future, are you going to look back on your past and regret that you weren't thinking? That everything could have been different and it wasn't?"

Her brow furrowed, and she stared oddly at her prize for a short while. "I…"

"Yes?"

"I…" She stopped again, seemingly looking for the right expression or word. "Someone I… loved died because they had mercy. Multiple people. Mercy can't save. It kills. Monsters don't accept mercy. They laugh at it like it's a comic opera. Human monsters the least of all. Do you think that thing will change its mind about killing us if we apologize?"

"We can at least try!"

Faye smiled eerily and began to laugh, the volume increasing until it was bouncing off the walls. Wincing, Martha covered her ears to shut out the sound. It reminded her horribly of a witch, cackling triumphantly at the defeated enemies before her. No matter what she did, the noise permeated her mind, invading every hope she had for the young woman in front of her. In that instant, she knew there was no turning back for Faye.

"Faye," Martha said slowly, interrupting her laughter. "Listen to me." Her mind went on a frenzy as she looked behind Faye and saw that Rose was approaching, the creature inside of her controlling her movements in a robotic, awkward way. Martha's only hope was to distract Faye from noticing her until the Doctor could get there. "I, er, want to know what happened to your, er, loved ones. What made you change your mind?"

"You know, I might actually have told you," she said with a bored smile, "if my arms weren't so tired." She lifted her sagging arms and readied to fire. "It was nice meeting you, Martha. Sorry it has to be this way." Her thumbs pulled back the hammers. "Goodbye."

In terror, Martha glanced back at Rose. "Run!" she mouthed, hoping Faye wouldn't catch it. Unfortunately, she did, and turned to see what Martha was looking at. With a petrified scream, she leaped back and held the guns out protectively. Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit her lip; Martha realized what she planned to do. "No!"

But she was too late. A massive roar was heard as the gunshots echoed through the building, and the staggering Rose stopped in her tracks, the Doctor appearing in the doorway just in time to see her fall.

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Mweeheehee. Worst cliffy yet, eh? I know. You all hate me, don't you:3


	43. Interlude 22

Just an interlude. Sorry, dudes.

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No.

No.

I won't.

I will not accept.

This.

It's too hard.

To bear.

I lost her once.

Then again.

A third time.

Just isn't fair.

Why can't I see?

My vision is blurred.

And all I can see is.

Red.

It's everywhere.

Red.

On me.

On her.

On my hands.

In my eyes.

Clouding my mind.

Breathe, can't.

Breathe.

Now.

I killed her.

I did.

I kill everything.

Nothing survives, they.

Are right.

I.

Am.

Death.

And the red.

Never leaves.

My hands.

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I would like to say that even though you all hate me, I still love you. Yay for love 3


	44. RECAP CH 1 TO 43

Heh heh. Hey, guys. Hello, all you followers of this fic. Hello, first time readers. Wow. The last time I updated this fic…..I wasn't even in high school yet. Now I'm almost finished with sophomore year. That is probably one of the most tragic things I have ever heard. Well, I am very sorry. There really is no acceptable excuse for it; it's simply that I got lazy. I got sick of updating, I forgot about Fanfiction, got more interested in other things like real life, and abandoned you all. I am truly, truly sorry for this. I bet you all have forgotten about this fic. I bet many of you followers have new email addresses and won't even know I'm updating. You probably don't even remember what happened, and will have to reread the entire thing over again, which I know you won't do. Well, I never finished what I start, and you know what? It is time to. I am going to finish this fic, even though I absolutely hate it now (hey, I have matured as a writer for 2 years, and this, to me, is an awful, awful piece of writing). Thank you all for bearing with me on this rant.

Since I know a lot of you have probably forgotten all about this fic, I though it would be a smart idea to do a recap. You won't have to reread 42 chapters, and I will be able to see how many of my old fans are still up and at 'em ;)

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, many fans would be mutinying against me at this very moment. Oh wait, they are. But I still don't own Doctor Who.

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The Doctor, travelling with Martha, somehow makes it back to Rose's universe. Upon arriving, he goes into shock; Martha teams up with Mickey, who has just appeared, to revive him. Mickey takes them to Jackie, who explains that Rose is horribly ill. She slit her wrists; soon after, her body and mind began to deteriorate until all that was left of her was a shell that constantly screamed the word "Doctor". No doctor has an explanation, or a cure, for this horrendous sickness.

The Doctor visits Rose, and upon seeing her, realizes that she has the Fever of the Taking, an illness that was supposed to have been wiped out during the Time War; unfortunately, so was the cure. It was developed as a weapon and got out of control, and until now, the universe had thought it had been wiped out for good. Faye Middleton, a nurse working on Rose's case, is curious as to how the Doctor knows so much, and unofficially joins their group.

Hopeless and heartbroken, the Doctor abandons all of them, including Martha, but discovers that the hole which allowed them to get to Rose's universe has been closed. Martha convinces him not to give up on Rose, and he begins search for a cure. Frustrated by his lack of attention, Martha leaves in an angry huff. Faye urges him to go after her, which she does, and Mickey comforts her as she tearfully admits she was almost falling in love with the Doctor. She expresses a deep-rooted jealousy of Rose, who managed to capture his heart and hurt him in the end. Mickey seems amused, but sympathetic, to her ramblings.

After many tears, the Doctor reconciles with Martha and they review Rose's MRI results. He explains that the disease only spreads through open wounds. He points out the clusters of nanomicrobes that are in her brain, and Mickey suggests they try using nanobots to combat the sickness. Faye admits that there has been some strange research going on in the hospital, and online speculation says that it could be nanorobotic. To their horror, they realize that the Doctor has open wounds fingernail wounds on his, from clenching his fists upon seeing Rose for the first time. He has caught the plague.

As they overcome the initial shock of this news, the Doctor has a revelation: it can't be a coincidence that Rose has this disease. The first known case of it on Earth and it just happens to be Rose Tyler? Nevertheless, they continue working and use nanobots hidden in a lab to cure Rose. She reveals that she had cut herself accidentally, and afterwards heard strange voices in her head asking about the Doctor. The next thing she knew, she says, the Doctor was waking her up.

Their reunion doesn't last long, however. The being that drove her to sickness possesses her, and accuses the Doctor of murdering its people. It claims to be Rakka, the last member of the Children of Lalae, a peaceful race which was caught in the Time War. They run, and try to strategize about how to negotiate with the being; Faye has other ideas. She produces two pistols out of nowhere and demands that they kill the Child, and Rose along with it.

Before he can stop her, the Doctor succumbs to the Fever and is reduced to a whimpering wreck. Faye takes off to kill the Child, and Martha goes after her. She gets there first, but Faye arrives soon after, and holds Martha at gunpoint. Martha tries to convince her to have compassion, but Faye admits that someone she loved died because they had mercy. Rose appears behind Faye, and Martha tries to tell her to run, but to no avail. The Doctor, cured by Mickey and the nanobots, bursts in just in time to see Rose fall.

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I will soon update and complete this! I swear!


	45. Death Is Cloudy

No words needed.

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"_You __**killed**__ her!!!!"_

Mickey's screech pierced the deafening silence as he lunged for Faye, who stood in triumphant shock as she watched her prey crumple in defeat. He collided with her with a thud, knocking both of them to the ground. Seizing both pistols, he held each to her forehead, his hands shaking as he tried not to pull the triggers. "You bitch," he sobbed, hot tears rising. "You ignorant _bitch_!"

Her breath evaporating in shock, Martha watched in almost slow motion as the Doctor's knees buckled, sending him floating heavily to the ground. He inched desperately across the floor, his knees soaking up the blood already flooding the tile floor. Trembling, he pushed his arms underneath Rose's form and lifted her up, placing her gently on his lap. Her eyes stared, watery and unfocused, and her mouth was half-open almost as if she were pronouncing the letter 'a'. His gaze traveled down to her torso, where two small cavities, one in her abdomen and one in her left lung, grew deeper shades of red by the second.

"I-I'll g-get some…some gauze," Martha whispered, and dashed from the room.

"Rose?" the Doctor barely murmured. "Rose. Rose, I can't…I can't save you, Rose," he moaned, his voice cracking. "I've lost you so many times, Rose, but I can't… I can't save you this time. I'm so…Rose, I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry, but…" His face crumpled as his throat betrayed him, and he let the tears spill over.

"Doc…tor," spoke Rose's lips, but it still was not her voice. "You…are triumphant. My…race i-is…extinguished. Y…you have your…your victory…"

"Shut up! Just…just stop it, all right?! I never wanted this; I never wanted to kill you or Rose or your people…I don't _plan_ any of this, ever! If I could, I would save you. But I can't…I can't _do anything_!" Mickey could see the outline of his suit shaking in rage.

"I…could."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"I could…save…m-myself. If I wished." The ghost of a smile brushed past her pale lips.

A look of horror shaped his features. "Then why don't you?! What are you waiting for?! Don't you want to live?!"

"Why would I? What…in this universe…have I to live for?" she rasped. "Everything is gone. My family is gone. My planet is gone. My entire race is gone. All I have left," here she coughed, drawing a strand of murky blood, "is my revenge upon you. And now I have it. With my death." An eerie, reddened laugh echoed in the room. "If I die, right now, right here, in your arms, in the body of your lover, you'll remember it forever. You'll be haunted. You'll have nightmares. You'll scream and beg me not to touch you in your sleep. It's the ultimate revenge."

"You can't be serious!" he cried. "Your life isn't worth that! You can't throw yourself away just for _revenge_!"

"Then tell me, Doctor, what _is_ my life worth? What else can you offer me that's worth more than revenge?"

"Life. Isn't that enough?" he pleaded, gripping her shoulders tighter.

"What is life now? What is life when all you had disappears?"

"I managed," he growled. "You certainly can."

This seemed to confuse the Child. "I…are you implying that I'm…weak?"

"I sure am," he half-chuckled. "You _are_ weak. You must have been the weakest of the Children of Lalae. You think that by destroying me, you'll make yourself stronger? That you'll be more honored once you're dead? Listen to me. No one is going to care if you killed some human. _No one will care_. Who are you proving yourself to? The gods? Your dead kin? They can't hear you, see you. You think they'll be proud of what you did?"

"…Maybe. What else-?"

"You can fight. You can save someone, even if it's just one person. You've got the power, so use it! All I've got is the TARDIS, and…and sometimes, someone else. And I'm still going. I'm still fighting. I've gotten to this point; I'm here to talk some sense into your stupid head. If you die, what's the point? What will any of it matter?"

A wave of pure tears gushed from the creature's wide, dying eyes. "But Doctor," she sobbed, suddenly seeming a lot less threatening. "I don't have a body.

"I know."

"We are spiritual beings. I cannot take corporeal shape. I would have to…take your companion's body as my own."

He sighed through clenched teeth, a drop of sweat meandering down his brow. "Then take it."

"_What?!_" Mickey cried in anguish, his hands tightening on the guns. "Doctor, you – you can't be serious!"

"She's _gone_, Mickey!" the Doctor snarled, tears stinging. "She's not coming back this time! Her consciousness has been snuffed out by this…_thing's _by now. Rose isn't coming back. Not this time." He turned back to take in Rose's face, the face that wouldn't be hers anymore. The face that wouldn't be _her _anymore. "Do it."

"But Doctor…"

"You wanted revenge? Well, you've got it. I'm telling you to have it. I'm _giving_ it to you."

"But – "

"_DO IT!!!_

A small hiccup rose from her throat, and, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, she fell limp in his arms. A faint, gold-blue light fluoresced from the raw bullet holes, and the two silver bullets rolled out with a faint squelch; the wounds sealed over instantly. The color bubbled back to her cheeks, and the Doctor gently touched his thumb to the newfound pink. His hand moved up to her hairline, brushing a sweat-matted yellow strand away from the skin. Chest heaving, he lifted her head slightly and kissed her quietly. A mangled, shaking sob resonated as he pulled away.

Rose opened her eyes.

"Hey," she whispered faintly, smiling. "It's me."

Shocked, the Doctor stammered, "W-what...? How? Oh my God…"

"My…dad was here. He was…stroking my hair." She reached her hand weakly to her forehead, fingering a dampened strand.

"No, Rose. That was me. That was only me," he grinned, and leaned down to kiss her again.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

HOLY CRAP I WROTE A CHAPTER. OMG. OMGOMGOMGOMG I AM SO PROUD OF MYSELF RIGHT NOW HAHAHAHA :) :) :) Please please please review this crowing achievement? Was it a good chappy? Was it worth the wait? Hahaha I know the answer, NO obviously. Forgive me, please. I hope I have made it worth your while :) I love you all!!! 33333


	46. Interlude 23

Yeah, I know. I'm sick of them, too. Don't worry. Almost finished :)

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These lips

Rose by name and nature

Pink

Smooth

Fleeting

They come and go

Smiling mostly

Frowning when necessary

Crying all too much

Hesitating far too little

They speak

I do not always listen

I close them tightly

I don't let them

Try to help me

I know not when

I touch these lips again

But for now

This is

Enough

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Reviews are appreciated, not for the interlude, but just for the story in general :)


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